Holding Sam
by MeraNaamJoker
Summary: Sam saves Bella after she gets lost in the woods. She returns the favor in more ways than one. A romance set in AU New Moon.
1. Getting Lost

**A/N: Once again, I'm venturing into New Moon AU. I distinctly remember telling all of Twitter to smack me if I tried this again after MQSTB. Apparently nobody hit hard enough. Between sixteen and seventeen chapters, of which fourteen are already written, with weekly updates. Quick notes, and I swear none of the other A/Ns will be this long:**

**1. I haven't been too careful about timelines of early phases, etc. SM contradicted herself so much between Being Jacob Black, New Moon, Eclipse, and then the Illustrated Guide, that I literally could not pick a timeline and despite audreyii-fic's best efforts to the contrary, my head threatened to explode. So, I tried. But there's a good chance I got something wrong about specific months preceding this story if it wasn't covered in Twilight the book.**

**2. Yet again, I'm totally ignoring whatever Breaking Dawn showed of the characters. Everybody was out of character for that book. Forget it, because I did. (Trust me, you'll probably be happier.)**

**3. Warnings for this fic: occasional language, graphic violence, explicit sex, prescription drug abuse, and underage drinking.**

**4. My army of helpers this time around include cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and BellaFlan, who variously beta, pre-read, and keep me from losing my shit.**

**5. Twilight and all its recognizable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

**The music that underwrote this chapter is Future of Forestry's "Protection."**

I could hear the voices calling my name as the sun rose behind the clouds, but it was too much effort to respond. Instead, I curled into a tighter ball, trying to shut out the world, trying to picture Edward's face and force it to say different words, words of comfort rather than the actual goodbyes and reassurances he had spoken before he kissed my head and walked away.

Nothing helped. I couldn't erase the recollection. It had burned itself into my brain and there was no helping the scarring that would form. I had long since run out of tears, but the dry sobs refused to stop ripping up from my chest and out of my throat. Everything hurt.

_Bella_

_Bella_

_Isabella_

The shouts grew closer, and then moved farther away, again and again. At last, I managed to blink my gritty eyes open and slowly, shakily stand. I couldn't go to them. I couldn't go back home. I couldn't face… anyone. I had to go after Edward.

"_Bella, I don't want you to come with me."_

Surely, surely he had been wrong, or lying, or just plain delusional. There wasn't any way that a love as strong as mine couldn't be returned by its recipient. It just wasn't possible for that great a disparity of feeling to exist.

Was it?

I had to believe it wasn't. So instead of staying curled up in a ball, I resumed my search, stumbling deeper into the gloom of the evergreens' shade until I was so deep in the forest that no sunlight could penetrate its cover.

I lost track of time, direction, and even whether it was day or night as I continued to plod forward. Long after the compulsion to move faded, my inability to think of another course of action made me put one foot in front of the other. At one point, the sole of my tennis shoe, already worn down by over a year's use, separated from the rest of the shoe and flapped off. I paused and looked back, dully trying to process the image. Shoe sole, off. My foot, in contact with the pine needles through a thin layer of fabric. There was something I should do about that…

My brain couldn't come up with a solution to the problem. I kept on walking, leaving the sole behind. After a while, my foot started to hurt, but I couldn't think what to do about that either, so I kept going. Following Edward had become the sole objective of my existence. Without forward motion, I had nothing.

_Walk, Bella. Walk._

The mental refrain sounded over and over again, one syllable per footstep. _Walk, Bel-la, walk. _The laces on my other shoe snapped eventually, but I merely stepped out of it and kept going.

My surroundings grew darker. I walked with my hands in front of me to keep from hitting my face on any trees, but it didn't stop me from falling on a regular basis. I got up each time and doggedly continued in as straight a path as I could manage.

Eventually, my legs wouldn't support me anymore. When I fell and couldn't rise again, I kept crawling on my hands and knees, ignoring the barely perceived stinging in my palms and legs; the ground water soaked into my jeans. The forest grew lighter around me. Finally, my elbows couldn't hold me up any longer. I collapsed into a heap next to a massive pine tree, huddled against its trunk, incapable of thought or action.

Slowly, the roaring in my ears faded, allowing the subdued forest noises to seep into my awareness. Birds chirped overhead. I could hear a dull whirring sound in the far distance—_helicopter?_—and scurrying in the dead pine needles where mice and other small creatures went about their business. Somewhere even farther away than the helicopter, a chainsaw whined. Loggers, probably.

I was going to die. That was okay. I didn't want to live without Edward anyway. No, it was more that I was sure I _couldn't _live without Edward. The truest of true loves, ripped away—_"It will be as if I'd never existed"_—and with it, my heart. Nobody could live without a heart, right? So I was already dead. My body just didn't realize it yet. I would wait here until it did.

My feet didn't hurt anymore. Neither did my hands. Everything was damp because of the constantly misting rain, but now that I wasn't moving that didn't bother me. An odd peace settled over me as I awaited my end.

"Hello," said a woman's voice, soft as a whisper, high-pitched as a baby's.

Dully, I opened my eyes to behold…

Something was wrong with my eyes. They wouldn't focus. Everything was blurry and doubled. I peered through the mist and saw a flash of deep red. A pale, pale figure.

The familiar sweet, alluring scent drifted into my nostrils. Vampire. Maybe a friend of the Cullens?

The dim flash of hope the notion gave me helped me move. I opened my mouth, but no sound emerged. My throat and tongue were too dry. I tried to swallow. After a few tries, I could croak out, "H-hello?"

"Why are you out here all alone?" She knelt in front of me, and finally I recognized the lovely face only inches from mine. Victoria had returned for me.

She tilted her head like a dog confronting a dilemma. Sweeping my gaze over her, I saw that she had done away with clothes since our last meeting and was now entirely naked. Of course, when even her hair was impervious to harm, I supposed clothing was nothing but an affectation. "Is it a trap? Are you the bait? Or are you the virgin, set out on the cliff to appease the monster?"

It didn't seem worth the effort to talk to her, so I closed my eyes again. Either she was going to kill me—redundant, at this point—or she would turn me, in which case I could hunt Edward in far more effective fashion. Either way, I saw no reason to fight.

Casually, she reached out and scraped one fingernail down my face, from temple to chin. I heard myself screaming, but it was a reflex, like my knee jerking when the doctor hit it with a hammer. I didn't actually feel any pain. She did it again, drawing a parallel line. I re-opened my eyes to see her suck on her fingertip.

"I see why they kept you as a pet," she murmured. "Should times grow hard they would have the sweetest blood within their reach… It's quite kind of them to make finding you so easy." She threw up her head and scented the wind, delicate nostrils flaring. "Did you bring _your _pet, little one?"

"Don't have a pet," I choked, pressing my palm to my bloody cheek.

She shrugged, her bony shoulder still amazingly graceful with its nonchalant motion. "A stray, then. It seems a pity that your mate won't witness this. Are you certain he isn't somewhere about?"

I would have laughed, but it was too much trouble, so instead I just stared some more.

Victoria sighed. "Very well then. This… won't be quick." She rose, lifting me by my jacket, and held me up so that my toes barely brushed the ground. "Where to start? Neck? No, too cliché. Breast? No, too many clothes. Wrist, perhaps? It looks as though James already beat me to it."

I hung limp in her grip, waiting for her to decide.

"I think your face," she said with a grin. I braced myself for the pain—

And fell to the ground once more as a black streak tore between the tree trunks and knocked Victoria sideways.

Snarls and hisses ripped through the air while the black blur and the white wisp twisted and turned and spun around each other, far faster than my paltry human sight could follow. They moved right, and then left, taking out tree trunks as they went. I watched, unable to summon the wherewithal to flee, as the trees splintered and crashed to the ground only a few feet away from me.

A yelp sounded, like a kicked dog. For a second, the two combatants rolled apart. Squinting, I finally could understand what the black thing was: a huge wolf, crouched and growling at Victoria. It backed up toward me. I couldn't understand. What wild creature would look at me and decide I was worth a fight with a vampire? Could it be that desperate for its next meal? I knew from Edward that most animals avoided vampires instinctively. Including humans.

The wolf got so close that one of its rear paws stood inches from my head. I looked up to behold something even weirder than what I'd previously witnessed: around the wolf's leg was a black cord, holding what looked like a pair of cutoffs against its fur. It gave a series of sharp yips in Victoria's direction. Victoria bared her teeth in response and yowled like an angry cat. I saw then that she held one of her hands in the other—the wolf must have severed it.

The wolf's shoulder had been hurt. Big drops of blood dripped to the ground from the wound, but it gave no sign of pain. Instead it gathered itself and lunged for Victoria again. She darted out of the way, and I saw the white streak—up, then over the animal—and then she was gone, a trace of musical laughter floating in the breeze of her departure.

With a thud, the wolf fell into a limp pile of limbs and fur. I gazed at it, trying to figure out what was going on as it whimpered and tried to lick its shoulder. It was no use, though; Victoria had wounded it again, on its other side: four long parallel gashes from its ear down to its leg. The animal closed its eyes and appeared to pass out, or maybe die.

As soon as its eyes closed, my life turned on its head once again. Because the wolf seemed to shrink into itself like a whirlpool, fur retracting and limbs dwindling and ears reducing and reshaping themselves… into human form.

The wolf… was a man.

A bloody, disgusting mess of a naked man, huge lacerations running the length of his neck and torso, the flesh on either side of the incisions quivering like jelly. I crawled closer, despite myself, swallowing back vomit. There was no way he wasn't dead.

Except his chest rose and fell. Proof of life, however temporary.

My nose chose that inopportune moment to begin working again. The coppery scent of blood—my own and his—hit my nostrils and I threw up bile. There was nothing else left. Choking on the acid burn in my throat and mouth, I managed to drag myself to the man's side. When I got a closer look at the wounds, I started dry heaving. The pain of the muscles in my face stretching under my own injuries seared, but I ignored it and leaned closer. The smell reached saturation point, and suddenly faded from my awareness again. I couldn't see past all the blood and rain in my eyes, though, so I slowly, with shaking hands, took my shirt off and wiped the length of them from top to bottom. Instantly, blood flooded out again, but in the half-second before it hid the flesh beneath I saw the edges knitting themselves back together, like time-lapse photography sped up before my eyes.

Okay. Okay. Clearly wolf-man was a quick healer. Maybe it came with the fur, maybe not, but at least I knew he wouldn't die here, most likely, as long as I could keep him from losing too much blood before the wounds recovered. He'd fought off Victoria, so that seemed like a good enough reason to keep him alive if I could. It wasn't his fault I didn't care whether Victoria succeeded or not. A brief flare of fury shot up through the darkness in my heart. He'd stolen my chance for death. After a second, I shook my head at myself; he couldn't have known what I wanted.

I tilted my head, trying to figure out the best way to help his body fix itself. Maybe if I could just hold the edges together, as though my hands were stitches, it would help the hurt places seal themselves together? I decided it was worth a shot. Placing my hands on either side of the biggest cut, I pushed the skin inward and counted slowly to sixty. When the minute had passed, I lifted my hands again and inspected the wound, wiping it off again with my shirt. Definitely it was shallower now. Ignoring the bright stains seeping into my skin, I repeated the process, this time counting to three hundred. When I looked again, the small area on which I had concentrated was almost completely woven back again. The other gashes looked only slightly better, but they were definitely improving too. I decided to focus my efforts on the same wound, since it was the worst, and moved down, holding another hands' length of skin together again. It took about thirty minutes, but finally only a thick pink line remained on the surface. I had no idea what was going on underneath, but at least he looked better. I moved on to the second-worst injury, shivering with cold and damp and trying not to sob hysterically at the sight of the dark crimson rings beneath my fingernails.

Time seemed to vanish as I half-reclined over the huge man's body, holding him together, literally. The rain kept falling; the light filtering through the trees appeared constant. My existence was measured by the rise and fall of the wolf-man's chest beneath my mangled palms. My arms shook convulsively and went numb again, but I managed to continue to perform my self-appointed tasks.

Finally, I peered at his stomach, and saw that I had reached the end of the last cut. Just one more section, on the other shoulder…

I couldn't do it.

The world looked dark, and sideways. I realized this was because my head was pressed to the man's body. I had collapsed across him. He groaned as my face came into contact with the lines so recently healed—clearly it wasn't all better underneath. Blood oozed from my face, mixing with his and seeping back under my skin. I wanted to help—I knew I should help—but everything faded away even as I watched.

( * * * )

When I woke up again, my ear was on fire. The man's voice rumbled beneath me—he was talking in his sleep.

"No—don't want—Paul, told you… told you stay… Jared, up to…"

I was so tired still, I could barely stir, but I forced myself to half-rise and look at his face. Clearly he was running a fever. I hoped he didn't have some sort of infection in the shoulder wound. I didn't want to talk, but he sounded really upset, which was probably a bad thing. "Hey. Hey. It's okay."

His eyelids fluttered. Inconsequentially, I noticed that his lashes were so long they lay on the skin below his eyes. Finally he cracked them open and peered at me.

I repeated, "It's okay. You're gonna be all right." It probably wasn't true—undoubtedly Victoria would come back to finish the job—but who cared? That sort of comfort wouldn't hurt him.

Moving in slow motion, he lifted one thick finger and traced the skin next to the gashes on my face. I winced but couldn't find the energy to move away.

"Emily?" he murmured. A smile pulled up the corner of his mouth. "Missed you… so much."

I swallowed against the misery as my chest cracked open. He was in love with this Emily. The reality shone through even when he was in so much agony. I closed my eyes against the adoration glowing on his face. After a minute of internal debate—break the illusion, possibly break his spirit, or let him keep dreaming for a little while longer—I chose what I would have wanted under the same circumstances, and whispered, "I missed you too. Go to sleep. Get better."

"Okay."

When I dared to open my eyes again, he was asleep, this time more peacefully. Now that I could move, it felt weird to be draped over his unclothed form. I rolled myself to the ground next to him, and curled up with my back against his side, head beneath his arm. The warmth radiating from his body relaxed my muscles enough to allow me to follow him into oblivion.

( * * * )

My face burned, but this time from the marks Victoria made. The pain woke me up again.

The first thing I noticed was that the rain had stopped. Instead of overcast gray light, actual sunshine penetrated the green overhead. A few dappled patches danced back and forth over my outstretched hand.

The second thing I noticed was that the wolf-man was gone.

I sat up too quickly and winced as the scabs on my face tore open. Fresh blood oozed out. The renewed stench made me go lightheaded, and I almost lay back down again before the urgent need to find the only other human (looking) being around got me to my feet. I took a step and flinched at the anguish in the soles of my feet, but I couldn't let that stop me, even if I couldn't make myself stand up straight.

"Hello?" I called in a cracked undertone. "Hello? Are you still around?"

The underbrush rustled to my right. Still hunched over, I cautiously rotated to look, and the man stepped out of the shadows, this time with the cutoffs on. The lines from his wounds looked bright red in the minimal sunlight, and he moved haltingly, but at least he was still breathing.

Now that the task of keeping him alive had obviously been dealt with, I found myself without any desire to stand. Sinking to my knees, I remarked stupidly, "You're awake."

He gave no sign of impatience with my inanity, merely offered a brief nod. "I am. And I think that the reason I'm awake so fast is thanks to you."

"Oh, you know…" I said vaguely. "It seemed like a waste to let you die. There can't be that many wolf-people out there. Let alone wolf-people… who fight vampires…" I could tell, with the portion of my mind still functioning, that my words were idiotic, but I couldn't seem to stop saying them. I noted his brown skin with distant surprise. "Are you Quileute? Makah?"

"Quileute."

"Oh. That's nice."

His brows pulled together in a sharp line of concern. "Your cuts are bleeding. What the hell did she do to you?" As he spoke, he strode across the little clearing and crouched beside me.

I shrugged. "She didn't bite me, but she used her fingernail. Just to taste, I think."

He nodded again, tilting his head as he examined my face. "They look infected. Is there any chance she poisoned them?"

I shook my head. "Probably not. They only have venom in their mouths… their eyes… places where humans have water…" Talking about it made the new hole in my chest throb and ache. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold the pieces together.

"What is it?" he asked, voice sharp with worry. "Are you hurt somewhere else?"

_Yes. I'm dying. I'm surprised I didn't die in my sleep. _"No."

"You're lying." The words were flat with conviction.

Opening my eyes, I met his gaze. "I'm not. She only hurt my face."

He leaned closer, balancing on one fist. I saw his nostrils flare. "All right," he conceded begrudgingly. "I guess you're telling the truth."

I nodded. The motion made the scratches on my face open wider. "No point in lying." I would have sunk down to press my forehead against the ground, but he caught my arm before I could go completely prone. "What?"

"You can't stay here."

"It's okay." I kept almost collapsing, and then being jerked half-upright by his grip. "Now that you're okay I can… I can go…"

"Go where?" he demanded. His hand tightened on my upper arm; he gave me a little shake. "Where are you going? Are you meeting more vampires?"

I laughed at the notion, but somewhere in the middle it turned into a sob. "No. No, they wouldn't let me find them. They're gone forever. He said—he said it'll be as if he never existed. That means never, right?" I would have thought I had no tears left, but I felt them running hot down my cheeks, stinging the open wounds and dripping from my chin.

"The Cullens are gone forever?"

I jerked up my face to look at him, dumbfounded both by his knowledge of their family and the incredulous happiness in his voice. "That's what… that's what Edward said…" Speaking the name made the hole in my chest open wider. Good thing my heart was already gone or it would have disappeared at this.

"We need to get you back to your father. He's the one who asked Old Quil to send me out here."

Charlie. Poor Charlie, he wouldn't know yet how much he had lost with Edward's departure. If everything that made me worthwhile had disappeared with the Cullens, then Charlie's daughter was gone. He wouldn't recognize me when I returned. If I returned. "I can't walk. My feet are too torn up."

"I'll carry you." After a second's palpable hesitation, he slipped his arms beneath me and lifted, cradling me like a baby. To him I didn't seem to weigh much more than an infant.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, leaning my head against his chest as I had the night before. "I should have just let Jasper kill me when he tried."

"No you shouldn't have," he growled.

"Okay." It didn't seem worth it to argue. "What's your name?"

"Sam Uley."

_Nice to meet you _was the correct response, but the circumstances made it laughable. I settled for, "I'm Bella Swan."

"Thank you for holding me together last night, Bella."

I wanted to say, "You're welcome," but instead I passed out again.


	2. Going Back

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your response to the first chapter! As always, I need to thank the army of prereaders/betas who keep me from sucking: BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, and Naranwien. I heart them all madly. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song that provided background for this chapter is "The Sky is Broken" by Moby.**

**# # #**

The absence of motion woke me. When I opened my eyes, I saw Sam sitting next to me, elbows resting on his knees. He looked as if he were trying not to throw up.

_Are you all right? _I thought.

A second later I realized I had spoken out loud when he replied, "I'm still recovering. We heal fast, but not this fast."

"We? There are others like you?"

He looked as if he regretted saying anything, but he answered me anyway. "Yes." Before I could decide whether I wanted to expend the energy to find out more, he added, "You should drink some water. How long has it been since you had any?"

I shrugged a little, letting my eyes drift shut again. A second later, though, I opened them when his burning hot hands gripped my shoulders. "Come on, I'll help you." He rolled me a little, and my mind finally processed the sound I had been hearing since I came around: a stream ran briskly downhill beside us. I couldn't decide how to best get the water into my mouth, so finally I just lowered my face to it.

"You should wash those cuts, too."

Without bothering to say anything in return, I let my cheek sink into the stream. It was so cold that even the fiery pain shooting in two lines down my face faded and went numb in just a few minutes.

"Hey, hey, don't fall asleep," I heard him say, suddenly urgent, and then I was staring at the treetops stretching overhead. Oh. He'd flipped me to my back.

"What the hell did he do to you?" he muttered. His hands moved up and down my body, pressing, looking for injury. "Where else are you hurt? Why can't I smell any other injuries?"

He could _smell _what was wrong? My fingers fluttered up, almost of their own accord, to my chest. "My heart—" For the first time I realized that I only had on a tank top with a shelf bra. Of course. I'd removed my shirt to care for him.

Moving with clinical detachment, he pushed my arms out of the way and pulled down the neckline of the tank, exposing my breasts. "I don't see anything. Your heartbeat sounds steady."

I turned my face away. He couldn't possibly understand, but I tried to explain anyway. "It's gone. Ed—" The name re-opened the hole where my heart used to be. I corrected myself. "_He _took it. He's gone."

A long moment of silence passed, and then he sighed. "I see." He let my top snap back into place.

I heard rustling noises, and turned my head to see him lying down on his back next to me, arms folded over his chest, covering the new scars, staring upward.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"A little. I'd feel a lot better if I could get you to shelter. If I don't get back to the rez soon, there could be hell to pay, but I can't phase right now so there's no way to let everyone know you're still alive." It didn't really seem as if he was talking to me, more that he was processing thoughts out loud.

"Phase?"

"Turn into the wolf," he explained.

I chuckled a little, though I didn't feel amused. When he turned an inquiring glance my way, I explained, "Jacob Black. A few months ago, he told me that story. About the wolves. Well, I mean, he told me the whole thing about the Cold Ones and how the wolves are their natural enemies." I tilted my head and squinted, trying to remember. "I think you were there, even."

Sam frowned. "He should have kept his mouth shut."

"He didn't know they were real. How could he? I would have figured it out eventually, or they would have told me."

He humphed a little. "No matter what, we're not supposed to tell those stories to… outsiders..." His voice trailed off into silence.

_To white girls, _he meant, but I didn't have the strength to say it for him. A slight growling noise made me look back at him. He was already asleep, snoring quietly. Now that I was freed from the need to communicate, the weight of my grief and despair began to crush me. I wanted to fall asleep too—anything to forget my own misery—but the chilled, damp ground made my back hurt and bones ache. What little I could see of the sky turned black overhead.

Warmth beckoned, just a few inches away, in the form of Sam's naked torso. I thought about ignoring it, but in the end I was too wretched with cold. I rolled to my side and curled up with my back against him as I had the night before. He muttered in his sleep—the same two names, Paul and Jared—but the massive arm closest to me wrapped around me. I lifted my head to rest upon his shoulder as his hand splayed across one of my thighs. I should have felt uncomfortable with such a near-intimate touch, but I was so frigid that I could only feel grateful for the additional insulation. A few breaths later, I relaxed enough to fall asleep.

I jerked awake again in a panic, searching for the source of my fear before I even fully returned to consciousness. After a second, I realized Sam's half-shouted words and tossing and turning had brought me around.

"No, Emily! Don't… so much, so much, please… happier without…"

That didn't sound good. I sat up and turned to look at his face, contorted with remembered or imagined pain.

"You… don't want… me…"

The words stabbed like a knife. So he _was _in love with Emily, or at least it seemed that way, but she didn't want him back. It hurt to see my own heartbreak written on Sam's strong features in the dim moonlight. I reached out and pushed his side gently. "Hey, Sam, hey. It's okay, you're just dreaming."

He shook his head, eyes stubbornly squeezed shut.

I tried again. "Sam—"

This time, when I touched him, his eyes flew open, and he moved so fast I didn't see him until he reappeared on the other side of the stream, crouched and stone-faced. I nearly screamed with the shock, but managed to suppress the sound.

His chest heaved, but his voice was rock-steady when he said, "It's never a good idea to touch me."

I swallowed. "You carried me here."

"Only because I had to. I'm dangerous, Bella. I've done terrible things to people who got too close at the wrong time. Don't ever forget that."

I knew he was right. Any person—creature?—who could give a vampire a run for her money was a force with which to be reckoned, and that force would likely be too much for my frail human form. I couldn't have just watched him have a nightmare, though; it went against everything in me to see someone in that condition and not try to help. "You were having a bad dream," I tried to explain.

His reply rang with absolute finality. "If it ever happens again, let me dream, no matter how bad I sound." I nodded my understanding. He rose to his feet. "I think I'm well enough to phase now. I'm going to go check in with the other two and make sure everything's all right."

I scrambled up, ignoring the harsh complaint of my feet. "You're going to leave me?" I couldn't decide what I feared more—that he wouldn't come back, or that he would.

He shook his head. "No. We've got a telepathic connection when we're in wolf form. I just have to phase and I'll know what they know."

My shoulders slumped. "Oh." I had my answer now: I would have rather he left me again so I could keep walking away from the inevitable fallout in my real life.

He shook his head. "You can't get far enough to escape me while I check in, Bella. I'm going to take you back to your father. After that, you're his responsibility, but until then, you're mine, and I always take care of my responsibilities. I'll just be in the woods a little way away. Don't worry; if the red-headed leech comes back I'll hear her long before you do."

Great. Thanks.

He walked into the tree cover. I sat with my knees pulled up to my chest, staring at the water moving downstream and trying not to think about anything at all. He came back after a little while and crouched next to me. "Your dad knows I found you. He thinks I radioed Harry to tell him so. Do you need to do anything before we get going again?"

Do anything? What was he thinking I would need to… oh. Now that I thought about it, I _did _have to go to the bathroom.

"I'll be right back," I told him, and hobbled into the woods myself. When I returned, he picked me up without a word and set off in an effortless, steady lope.

"You're really strong," I observed sleepily.

"You can thank the Cullens for that." His curt tone, along with the name, made me flinch, but he ignored it. "They might have sent you out wandering in the middle of nowhere, but at least they provided the means for you to be rescued, too, whether or not they meant to."

"He didn't send me out here… I followed him. I tried to follow. I'm not strong enough, or fast enough…" I was so tired. I could hear the words coming out of my mouth but they seemed to tumble forward without my conscious volition. "Thank the Cullens?"

He leaped over a fallen tree trunk and landed without jarring me in the slightest. "Without vampires, there are no werewolves."

"Without him, there's no me," I mumbled.

He stayed silent so long, I thought he wouldn't reply, but at last he spoke. "You're still here. You just don't know it yet."

( * * * )

I must have passed out again, because when I opened my eyes I was on the ground and three men loomed over me, looking down.

"You're still hurt," said one. It was only when I heard his voice that I realized he wasn't Sam. They appeared almost identical to my blurry eyes. I blinked hard, trying to see differences. One had a pointed chin. One had straighter eyebrows. One had broader shoulders and was about three inches taller than the other two. That one was Sam, I thought, a suspicion confirmed when he replied to the pointed-chin-guy.

"It's getting better. I'll be back to normal within twenty-four hours. How close is the Chief?"

"He'll probably be here within ten minutes. He was driving like a crazy man. I could barely outrun the cruiser."

"Any sign of the redhead?"

"Nah, not even her shadow. You shouldn't have Alpha ordered us, Sam—"

"The rez needed you more than I did. You know that, Jared, and you wouldn't have wanted to leave Kim anyway. I was fine."

"Yeah, right, I saw those gashes before they were healed—"

Sam's voice took on a deeper timbre that seemed to vibrate in my bones. "Quiet, Paul."

The pointed-chin boy's mouth snapped shut, seemingly of its own accord. He glared murderously down at me. I would have shrunk back but their conversation didn't seem real enough to worry about his antagonism.

"Stupid little leech lover," said the straight-eyebrow boy. Jared. "Did she think she could make them take her with them? What was she supposed to be, a farm animal? Easy meals on hand?"

"I don't think she was thinking anything at all, except that she needed him."

Jared's face assumed an uncomfortable expression, and he gave a sideways glance to Sam, who appeared not to notice. "Maybe she's on the redhead's side."

Sam shook his head. "You saw. She was about to kill Bella."

"That's what happens when you get too close to ticks," the one called Paul sneered. "She had it coming." I closed my eyes against the scorn written all over him.

"It's most likely not her fault. You know what the stories say about how they affect regular humans. Without her help I think there's a chance I might not have survived." I sensed movement as Sam knelt beside me and felt my forehead. "Those scratches on her face are definitely infected. She feels almost normal to me. You told them to bring the ambulance too, right?"

"Yeah. It's following the Chief."

"All right. Back to patrolling, Paul. Howl if you smell the redhead. Jared, go home and get some rest. You don't need to be here when the Chief pulls up. I'll stay here with Bella until they arrive, and then I'll join Paul."

"You sure about that?" Jared asked. "Maybe you should sleep. Kim always says—"

"I'm fine. Go, now."

I listened, but heard no sound to indicate the change from boys into wolves until their heavy paws thundered across the dirt away from Sam and me.

"Just another minute or two, Bella. I can hear the sirens a few miles out. This was the closest point we could find with road access for the ambulance."

Despondency settled in like a lead blanket over my entire form. Tears trickled from the corners of my closed eyes, but I couldn't make myself care.

"You're going to be all right. Your dad'll take care of you."

Charlie would have no idea what to do for me. I always took care of myself; he had never once in his life been called upon to step up in my defense. I knew instinctively that this time—just like every other time—I was on my own. I couldn't tell Sam Uley that, though, and anyway even my normal ears could now pick up the faint wailing from the ambulance and Charlie's cruiser. Soon the worst part of this entire thing would begin—explanations, lies, and deflection, a repeat of my trip to Phoenix, only this time with no one by my side to bolster the deception and my recovery. I wanted to die all over again, just thinking about it. My heart was gone forever, _he _was gone, everything that mattered was gone, my heart…

"You can live without your heart, Bella." Sam spoke softly, for my ears alone, just before the sound of the sirens grew to deafening levels. Was I saying that out loud? I bit my lip to keep the words inside my head. "It _is _possible, no matter how much you doubt it now."

"How do you know?" I implored. "How do I do it?"

Screeching tires on wet pavement. Slamming doors. Raised voices, shouting orders, instructions, and my name, over and over again… Charlie, running towards us, from the sound of it. Sam said, "I'll tell you, some other time, when your body's better."

Charlie's hands were on me, urgent and afraid. "Bells—baby—oh God—Sam, where is she hurt?"

"There's not too much wrong with her besides those gashes on her face and the cuts on her palms and feet. She hasn't eaten since she left, I think, and I didn't have any food with me unfortunately. She had water though."

"You didn't carry food with you? And where are your shoes?" I opened my eyes to see a flash of confusion on Charlie's face, but worry drowned it out almost immediately. "What the hell happened with her face? Bells, talk to me. What happened?"

Sam answered for me. "Some sort of wild animal attacked her. It happened before I got to her and she didn't get a good look at it. I think they're infected."

"She's burning up. Bella? Talk to me. Bells."

"S'okay, Dad," I mumbled. Now that he had arrived, and I was forced to notice the world around me a little more, I realized my clothes were soaked through and chafing every crevice on my body. My face felt like a blowtorch had seared across it. "'M fine."

"You're not fine. Tell me what happened. Why did you end up here?"

The paramedics stood behind him, holding their red bags. One said, "Chief, we need you to stand aside so we can do our jobs."

I could see Charlie wavering, but he nodded and stepped back so they could move in. Before I knew it, I was in the back of ambulance on a gurney and Charlie was sitting next to me as the doors slammed shut.

Inessentials seemed a good way to go. "What about your cruiser?"

"It's fine; Dean's going to take it back to the house after he drops Sam Uley off at the rez." Dean Wilson was Charlie's deputy.

The paramedic set up an I.V.—it took him three tries to find a vein—and then gently dabbed at my face with alcohol. The sting startled me a little. "These are definitely going to need an antibiotic prescription. Here, Bella, drink some water. Help the I.V. do its job."

He handed me a newly opened bottle. When I tried and failed to get it to my mouth, Charlie held it in place so I could sip. My abused throat started to feel better as I drank.

"How in God's name did you get so deep in the woods, honey?" he asked me.

Fresh tears flooded my eyes. _Stick as close to the facts as possible, so you won't have to remember some elaborate story, _Alice had instructed me last spring. I settled for sharing a fragment of the truth. "I got lost."

Charlie's face clouded over into a thunderous scowl. "Did Edward just _leave _you there?"

The name, spoken out loud, ripped apart the seal I'd been keeping on the turmoil in my emotions. Crippling despondency surged through the new hole in my chest. I wanted to scream with the torment, but instead I tried to distract him. "How did you know where I went? How did they know where to look for me?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Your note, honey."

I shook my head in confusion. The paramedic, still picking out fragments of dirt and other detritus from my face, chastised, "Try to stay still, Bella."

Obediently, I kept myself as steady as possible when I protested, "I didn't leave a note."

"You must've forgotten. I've got it right here." He shifted on the bench to pull out a crumpled-up piece of paper, dirty and soft with use. He unfolded it to show me words I'd never written, yet still in my own hand: _Going for a walk with Edward, up the path. Back soon, B._

I never called myself B. I always signed my name. For some reason the discrepancy bothered me.

"When you didn't come back before dark, I called the Cullens' house, but nobody answered the landline, and I didn't have their cells, so I tried the hospital. That was when Dr. Gerandy told me the Cullens were gone."

The name again. The pain grew worse with every repetition. It was as if _his _favorite prey had taken up residence in my body and was trying to claw its way out. "Did he say where they went?" I gasped out past the suffering.

Utter disbelief, written all over his face. "He didn't _tell _you?"

I wanted to laugh. I settled for a curt, "No."

Charlie clearly had a difficult time believing this, but he answered all the same. "Carlisle took a position at a big teaching hospital in Los Angeles. I guess they made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

Sunny L.A. Yeah, right, I was sure they were headed straight there. For a second, I remembered my nightmare the morning of my birthday: the mirror, in the meadow, and his skin reflecting the sun's light in a million diamond facets—

Agony ripped through me the instant his face appeared in my memory. I moaned with the force of it.

"I want to know, Bella. _Did _Edward just walk away from you in the middle of those woods without making sure you made it home safe?"

This time the name sent all the breath right out of my lungs. No, I didn't have lungs to breathe with anymore. I tried to suck in air but couldn't. The pain in my chest grew and grew until I started to wonder if it was possible for me to have a heart attack at eighteen. Whooping for air, I shot up on the gurney and clawed at my breastbone. "Can't… breathe… help me," I wheezed to the paramedic.

"Lie down again," he instructed in a no-nonsense tone. "I'll put the oxygen mask on." Everything in me urged me to run, to flee the constriction where my heart and lungs used to be and burst out of the suddenly too-small confines of the ambulance, but Charlie's hand on my shoulder helped me recline once again. The oxygen mask settled over my face. "Hold it there for her, Chief." Charlie's other hand obediently moved to gently press the mask in place while the paramedic listened with his stethoscope and prodded at my throat. "I can't be sure till we get to the emergency department and run some tests, but this looks like a panic attack to me."

"She's pretty level-headed," Charlie objected. "And there's no reason for her to be scared now. She's safe."

"Panic attacks aren't really about being scared," the paramedic said. "Bella, I'm going to give you a mild sedative in your I.V."

I wanted to object, but couldn't speak past the mask quickly enough before he injected the medicine into the tube. In a few minutes, every muscle in my body relaxed and I couldn't hold my eyes open for another second.

When I woke up again, I saw Dr. Gerandy standing in the corner of my hospital room, talking in undertones to Charlie. "The best thing now is to get her home, in familiar surroundings. Try to keep an eye on her, Chief. She seemed very distraught when she was talking in her sleep; she kept begging the Cullen boy not to leave her."

Looking down, I saw that my wet, torn clothes were gone and I was in a hospital gown. Mild sedative. Right. "Ch-Dad?" I quavered, interrupting their whispered conference. "I want to go home. Can I go home please?" The skin of my face stretched and pulled as I spoke. I lifted my fingers to brush over the butterfly bandages holding it together.

Charlie hesitated, and then nodded his assent. "Dr. Gerandy says there's no real reason to keep you here, Bells. The nurse is working on the discharge stuff right now."

We drove home in silence, but I felt as though I would jump right out of my skin with dread. Charlie clearly wasn't through interrogating me, but that wasn't what I feared most. Ever since he pulled that paper out of his pocket, I had been faced with an inescapable reality: Ed—_someone _had been in the house to leave the note.

_It will be as if I'd never existed._

He was always thorough.

When we walked through the front door, Charlie turned to me and opened his mouth, but I forestalled him. "I really need to go to bed. I'm so tired and my face hurts and my feet hurt and I want to go lie down."

His jaw set, but he acquiesced with a nod. "Let me help you up the stairs."

"No, that's all right, I can—" I looked up. Sixteen steps. "Okay, thank you."

He didn't want to let me go in by myself, but I insisted I would be all right, and almost closed the door in his face before turning to survey the room. Everything looked exactly the same. I lurched to the CD player and hit the eject button. The tray slid out. Empty. A sob caught in my throat.

The scrapbook Renée had sent lay on the floor next to the bed where I'd dropped it. Falling to my knees, I flipped the cover back with shaking hands.

The first page told me everything I needed to know. In the brackets where the picture of Edward in my kitchen had once resided, there was only blank paper with my notation beneath it: _Edward Cullen, Charlie's kitchen, Sept. 13. _I wondered why he hadn't removed the page itself. After all, it had his name on it.

I heard myself wailing before I knew where the sound originated. When Charlie burst through the door a second later, he found me curled up on the floor. I didn't move again for a very long time.


	3. Sinking Fast

**A/N: As ever, I need to thank the army of prereaders/betas who keep me from sucking: BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, and Naranwien****. They're all fantastic writers in their own right and I'm so happy they take pity on me. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song that provided background for this chapter is "Unrequited Love" by Lykke Li.**  
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I lay in my bed for two weeks, gazing at nothing in particular. Charlie tried to get me to eat at the table, but I could only choke down a couple of mouthfuls at a time before my throat closed up and I set down my fork. "I can't, Dad," I told him finally, after two days. "Please, can I stop trying?" I hoped that would put an end to the issue, but he bought Ensure instead, and stood by me until I drank at least six ounces three times a day. It sometimes took me nearly an hour to get it down, and half the time I would unintentionally throw it right back up, but at least it kept me from starving.

Not that I cared whether or not I lived. Every morning when I woke up, it was to realize with dull surprise that I had survived to see another day. I heard Charlie on the phone—a difficult task for my taciturn father—for hours on end, speaking with soft-voiced worry to unidentified advisers. After a week, one of those advisers showed up at our home: Renée.

"Hello, baby!" she caroled, bursting through my bedroom door like an importunate rainbow, multi-colored scarves and crystal jewelry swinging in every direction as she breezed into the room. A wave of patchouli scent smacked into my nose. "How's my little owl?"

I stared at her in shock. She'd always been unstable, but now that she didn't have to work at all she seemed to have given up any pretense of normality. I couldn't think what my answer should be.

She didn't wait for one regardless. Sitting on the bed next to me and patting my knee with one hand, she lifted her completely unnecessary sunglasses with the other to hold her hair back from her face. "How are you feeling? Charlie tells me you've been a little blue."

A little blue. I tested the concept, turning it in my head and examining it like a Rubik's cube. A little blue.

"So what I thought is—and Phil totes agrees—is that you should hop on down to the Sunshine State with us and get out of this rainy gloomy shit."

I averted my gaze and stared at my quilt instead, picking at a loosened thread with one ragged fingernail.

"It's such a massive bummer to have the weather, I don't know, reflect your mood or something?" Renée hefted her voluminous purse to her lap and began pawing through it as she chattered on. "Honestly, Bella, I have like no clue how you can stand to live here, it's such a goddamn shithole, like the end of the world plus flannel and lumberjacks. Oh, fuck this." She upended her purse and started picking up the prescription bottles that tumbled out, examining their labels and then putting them back in her purse one by one. "The flight out was a fucking travesty, you just wouldn't have believed it, turbulence and then the drive here from Seattle took forever, God, my nerves are_ shot, _and where the _hell _is my Xanax?"

I picked through the scattered contents of her purse and handed her the right one. Taking it from me, she fumbled to open the lid with sweaty hands. Once she finally unscrewed it, she tapped a couple of pills out and set them on her tongue, washing them back with the contents of the dark red flask she always carried with her. "Thank God I stopped to get booze on my way here because I honestly could _not _handle this place without it. Oh! I forgot to call Phil and let him know I got in okay. I'll be right back, baby."

She floated out of the room. I started putting the remaining bottles spread across my quilt back into her purse while I waited for her return. Lortab from Phoenix. Vicodin from Houston. Valium from Jacksonville. Whoever had been running the X-ray machine at the airport must have been asleep.

After fifteen minutes, she came back to my side, carrying a plastic bag. "So anyway, like I was saying, it's so time for you to get out of here. Now that Phil's not on the road all the time, you could just go to school in Jacksonville, get away from this glorified cattle pen, hang out with me on the beach while we scope the hot guys…" She trailed off with a suggestive wiggle of her professionally groomed eyebrows. For the first time, I noticed a flash of silver in one: a new tiny hoop. "They've got some kickass shops there, Bella, and I can buy you new clothes—and look what I got you!" She offered the plastic bag. "New makeup. You need some color in those cheeks." I set it aside on my nightstand. She tapped the underside of my upper arm, tsking as it swayed a little with the impact. "Oh, baby, looks like you've put on some weight since you moved up here. Well, no sense keeping a bikini body in a place where nobody ever swims, right? That's okay, you can do this new wheat grass diet my friend Jennifer was telling me about that I've been wanting to try for weeks now. It'll just flush that fat right out." She stood and walked across the room in her wedge-heeled sandals, pulling down my duffel bag from the top closet shelf. "I'll pack some of your things and we'll take off. Charlie can get your transcript sent to Florida sometime next week or whatever."

I watched her start to open my drawers, unsure whether or not a response was required.

"It'll be just like old times. Renée and Bella, partners in crime!"

I swallowed a couple of times, and then choked out, "No."

She looked at me over her shoulder. "Huh?"

This time my voice came out more steadily. "No."

Charlie stepped into the doorway. "Did you ask her?" He directed the question at Renée, but kept one wary eye on me.

"Of course, and we're getting set right now!" Renée chirped.

"No!" I jumped out of bed, nearly falling as the covers wrapped around my legs. Righting myself with one hand on the headboard, I shouted, "You can't make me go anywhere! I'm not leaving!" Bandages popped free of my cheeks, and the cuts burned with fresh ruptures, but I paid them no heed. The throbbing pain inside me had twisted and wrapped itself into a new shape: sheer fury. How _dare _they make this decision for me without talking to me first? I was a legal adult and they hadn't even _asked_. Like Renée could run her _own _life, let alone someone else's.

"Honey, nobody's gonna make you leave, okay? You've just been so sick, I thought you might need to go to the hospital, and that your mom would help if you—"

"If I _what? _Gave you any trouble? Told you that you two were being interfering controlling _jerks? _She came in here and started talking about how she couldn't wait to get me to Jacksonville!" I started grabbing random things without looking from the desk and throwing them against the wall. I was so weak that most of them didn't break until they fell to the floor. "I'm not—" _crash _"—going—" _crash _"—to Jacksonville—" _crash _"—or anywhere else but _right here in Forks!_" _Crash crash crash_

Charlie, eyes wide in shock, raised both his hands in a placating gesture as he slowly approached me. "Bells, just calm down, nobody's gonna make you do anything—"

I jabbed an unsteady finger in Renée's direction. The words came out in a wobbly shriek. "She was _packing my bags!"_

"I'm sorry, baby," Renée responded in an uncharacteristically subdued tone of voice. "I didn't know that would piss you off."

Charlie, who had been edging toward me this whole time, finally got close enough to wrap his arms around me, pinning my own arms to my torso. As soon as he held me in the restraining embrace, my legs gave out and I sagged against him. I tried to hold back the sound of my grief, but it slipped out between my clenched teeth anyway in a thin whine. "Daddy, please don't make me go away," I begged, turning my face into his chest. "Please let me stay with you. I just want to stay in Forks, please."

I hadn't called Charlie "Daddy" since I was four years old. His grip on me tightened. When he answered, his voice had gone rough with emotion. "You're not going anywhere, honey." I started to sob with mingled relief and misery. It was the first I'd cried since getting in the ambulance, and rather than lancing the wound, it felt like pushing against a bruise—deepening the hurt.

"But Charlie, you said—" Renée began to protest.

"I didn't mean you were supposed to come in and take over like you never left off, Renée," he snapped. "I just wanted your help in case we had to check her into the hospital in Port Angeles like Dr. Gerandy said."

She made a flustered motion with one hand. The crystals dripping from her wrist caught my lamp's light and sent prismatic reflections everywhere. I closed my eyes against the unintended reminders as I kept crying. Charlie awkwardly patted my back while I stood limp in his arms.

"Charlie, she needs us both right now. You don't want me to just leave, do you?"

Charlie took his time answering. "No. No, I'm sure she appreciates you coming all the way out here. You can sleep in my bedroom. I'll take the couch."

"Oh! Uh… I already got a room at the Pacific Inn. Phil didn't want me to spend the night in another guy's house…"

"Right." He walked with me back to the bed and helped me lie down again. I pressed my face into my pillow, heedless of the blood I was getting on the case, unable to get the weeping under control. "Do you need any help with anything before you go there?"

There was a long pause, and then Renée said in a voice thick with tears, "I need a cigarette. I'll see you later." I heard the front door slam a few seconds later, then the sound of a car pulling away from the curb in front of our house.

"Don't make me leave," I sobbed again.

Charlie's hand came to rest between my shoulder blades. "It's okay, Bella. You can stay with me as long as you want."

I nodded, but I didn't stop crying. I couldn't. _You can stay with me._ Not _I _want _you to stay with me._

Nobody wanted that.

( * * * )

Charlie brought my schoolwork home after I missed a week, but I waited until the weekend before my return to Forks High to get started on it. The piles of assignments ate up the hours in an effective way, demanding all my attention, which was a huge relief. I hadn't been able to sleep (except for that involuntary sedation) since Sam set me down next to the road, the night we came out of the woods, but after I finished half of my assignments on Saturday night, I dared to hope.

I slept, all right, and woke screaming just a couple of hours later with Charlie's hand shaking my shoulder frantically.

"Just a bad dream," he reassured me, when I snapped my mouth shut and carefully wiped my cheeks.

I nodded and apologized, but after he left, I stared at the ceiling, reliving the nightmare.

_Running through the woods. Edward, ahead of me, always ahead, always too fast even as I reach and grab_

_Finally close enough to snatch at his jacket, to force him to turn around_

_He spins, I stagger—back—red eyes_

_Red hair_

_Rosy-lipped smile_

_Victoria_

_Screaming, releasing my grip, and the clothes dissolve from her form. Standing before me, naked and unashamed once more_

"_You caught me_

"_I'm yours now_

"_So what do you want?"_

_A question and a taunt and an invitation. My voice, uncertain: "I want to—"_

_Die_

_Change_

_Flee_

_But instead there's the wolf, just as before, except this time he succeeds. She's in pieces, all around me, shattered as I stare, all my options reduced to one: the wolf, and he meets my eyes, unflinching, waiting for me to give him what he wants_

"_Emily's not here," I tell him, "she never was"_

_The words wound him and he's lying on his back with his life's blood draining into the ground beneath, so I drape myself across him to hold the pieces back together once again_

_I'm wounded too_

_Our blood mingles and flows together, seeping into my wounds, rushing through my veins, and I wait to see if mine will be enough to keep him alive._

I thought about lying on the forest floor with Sam Uley at my back, and shivered away the rest of the night wide awake, alone in my bed.

( * * * )

I had almost forgotten about the gashes on my face until I returned to school. Brushing my hair, washing up, flossing, getting dressed… none of those things required actually looking at myself as a whole. I just focused on the task before me without actually seeing the entirety of my appearance. As soon as I stepped through the doors, though, the shocked expressions and quickly (or, in the cases of some of the younger guys, not-so-quickly) averted eyes reminded me: I looked like a freak. I walked with my hair over my face as a curtain, but I still had to stand at the front of the classroom at the beginning of each period to hand the teacher my excused absence slip and wait for him or her to hand it back. Everybody stared. They couldn't help it, any more than I could make myself overcome my humiliation and start participating in class again.

I sat with the other kids, the same as ever, ignoring the empty seat to my left as best I could. They tried to talk to me, but I hid behind my hair and gave them short answers for fear they would see my face if I replied too extensively. Angela and Mike accepted this and made an effort to keep including me in their smiles and general comments. The others, made uncomfortable by my strange behavior, started to ignore me. I saw it happening but I had no idea how to prevent it, or whether or not I even cared enough to do so. I toyed with the idea of going to the library or hiding in a restroom stall rather than face them—I never ate anymore—but in the end, deviating from my routine was too much effort. I stayed in my seat at the cafeteria table.

I did my best to keep from hurting Charlie or making him worry. There was nothing that could be done about the nightly bad dreams, but I attempted everything else. I focused on my homework to try to make up for my inability to ask questions in the classroom, so my grades stayed relatively good. My Calculus scores even improved. Charlie's forehead remained creased in concern, though, so I tried more, going to Mike's parents' store and asking to be put back on the schedule. I hoped, when I came home with the news of my rehire, that I had succeeded in putting his mind at ease, but a few weeks later he proved me wrong.

"What do you want to do for Thanksgiving?" he asked casually at breakfast one morning.

I had been gazing at the newspaper's headline about two hikers missing, but I saw Victoria and Sam trying to tear each other apart instead. Charlie's question caught me by surprise. "That's weeks away, Dad."

Charlie's jaw set; he looked furious, but not with me. "It's one day away, Bella. You get out of school early today."

To that, I could only respond with a soft, careful, "Oh." I had wondered why Mrs. Newton scheduled me to work so early this afternoon. I'd assumed it was a mistake. Lifting my fingers to brush my cheek, I discovered the bandages were gone. There were only two thin raised lines. I fumbled for something that would help him not to worry and end this conversation as quickly as possible. "Do you… um... do you want to go up to La Push and see Harry and Billy? I bet Mrs. Clearwater makes good turkey—"

He snorted, an unusual enough reaction that I stopped and stared. "I can't believe _I'm _the one who ended up looking through that book. I already knew this part, though." He nodded at the shelves dividing the kitchen from the living room, where _Lies My Teacher Told Me _stood along with a few other texts between bookends. It had been an end-of-the-school-year gift from Renée back in May (and struck me as an odd choice coming from a teacher). "Honey, Native Americans don't usually observe Thanksgiving. Not much for them to celebrate from their point of view."

I felt my face turn fiery-red with shame. I should have known that. I couldn't think what to say, though. There were dangers in speaking too much.

Charlie instantly looked a little panicked. "Uh, but that doesn't mean we can't go up tomorrow! We've all got a couple days off no matter what, except for Sue. Maybe a change of scenery'll do you good. You can hang out with Harry and Sue's daughter Leah—remember Leah? She's not much older than you."

A girl I didn't know? Oh God. "Uh…"

"Good." He seemed relieved to have reached a decision with my nominal input. "I'll call Harry, set it up. Maybe we'll have some fish fry."

"Okay," I breathed, and grabbed my backpack to make my escape.

The teachers were no more interested in being at school than the students, so I had very little to distract me even in class. I tried not to think about the torture surely awaiting me on Thursday, but every time my mind unwillingly visited the prospect I felt nauseous. A girl my age. Someone I didn't know. Someone who was probably prettier than me and a good conversationalist and just plain better at _living. _Maybe I could bring a book and stay in the car? But that would be really weird. They might come out and try to talk to me and that would be even worse. If I went inside they would probably just ignore me if I could stand in a corner out of the way and not make eye contact. But what if there wasn't a lot of room? The houses on the rez were pretty small. What if I _had _to talk to someone? I couldn't do it. I couldn't. They'd ask me about my face or try not to look at it, and I couldn't decide which would be worse.

Maybe I could fake getting sick just a few minutes before we left or something. Except then Charlie would stay home and try to take care of me, and he would ask questions and really _see _me and what if that meant he'd notice how badly I was doing?

"Hey Bella," Mike said after the last bell, jarring me from the infinity loop of my own obsessive worry. "See you in a little bit."

For a second, I stared, unable to process his words, but then I remembered: work. We were scheduled together. "Yeah. Sure. Just a couple minutes, right?"

"That's right!" He seemed pleased I remembered. "Need a ride?"

Ugh. Why did everybody want to _talk _all the time? It was so much effort. "No thanks. I've got my truck."

A flash of disappointment crossed his disingenuous face, but he recovered quickly. "Cool. See ya."

Newton's was dead—nobody really wanted to pick up hiking gear or tents a day before the holiday. I let Mike's chatter flow over and around me, throwing in random, "Huh," "hmm," and "wow" noises at gaps in the words while I tried not to throw up from fear of the coming ordeal.

"So are you coming?"

I tuned in to see him waiting for an answer. Running through my recollection of the last few words he'd spoken, which didn't help, I stammered out, "C-coming? Where?"

His eyebrows quirked for a second. I realized he must have already told me and was now repeating himself. "Lauren's parents go up to Seattle every year for Black Friday and spend the weekend there while they do their Christmas shopping, so every year since eighth grade she's had a party while they're gone. It's totally kickass. Everybody goes. You should come too. It's Friday night."

A party? Even worse than Thanksgiving with one stranger my age… every kid I knew, in one place, without the regimented routine of school to hold interaction at bay. "Probably not. I have to study."

He shrugged. "Okay. But if you want to you can call me for directions or I can come pick you up or whatever since you've never been there."

I nodded and tuned out again.

That night, after eating a few bites of salad and gagging on each one, I curled up in bed, trying to let the gnawing pain in my stomach distract me from the sadness and failing. I didn't want to dream, and even if I did want to do so I was always _so cold _now, too cold to fall asleep. Eventually, though, my eyelids drifted shut of their own accord.

I woke up a few hours later, sobbing Edward's name and Sam's. After a minute, I got myself under control and pulled the blankets over my head to try to insulate myself from the chill. As I tried not to remember—_anything_—a thought occurred to me.

Sam Uley knew something about living without a heart.

Sam Uley… lived on the rez. There was a possibility I could see _him _tomorrow. Oddly enough, I didn't fear that prospect in the least. He might have found me during the worst couple of days of my life, but he _understood. _Even if he hadn't explained how, I had felt the bone-deep empathy emanating from him. And… there was something else. In my dreams, I was able to save him, or at least make the attempt, and it made me remember what I had done for him after he fought Victoria. For once, I had been _enough_ for someone else.

The next day, Charlie and I drove up to the rez in silence. Once we pulled up to the Clearwaters' house, though, I hopped out and started walking away before anyone came to the door.

"Bella?" Charlie called after me. "House is this way."

"I've gotta go talk to someone," I replied without turning my head.

"Who?" He sounded utterly bewildered. "Who do you know here besides the Blacks and the Clearwaters?"

I sighed and turned, but kept my eyes on the mud beneath my shoes. "I never, uh, said thank you to Sam Uley. For finding me." Mostly because I wasn't all that grateful, although probably I should have pretended.

Charlie didn't seem at all enlightened when he said, "Oh. Okay? I guess. I'll be inside. Don't go too far."

_Don't go back in the woods, _he meant.

"Yeah." I trudged away. I had no idea where Sam lived, but the reservation was only a mile square. He had to be somewhere nearby. Rain began to fall, but I ignored it. Living in Forks meant you got drenched by the elements sometimes. It happened.

I hadn't gotten very far when I caught sight of two men who looked like they were in their mid-twenties standing close to the tree line, staring at me with dark suspicion. They were so alike they could have been brothers, but one had straighter eyebrows and one had a pointed chin. Jared and Paul. I stopped and stared in return.

_Go back to the house, Bella._

I froze, every muscle locked in place. I hadn't heard that voice since just after my birthday. Velvet-smooth, more beautiful than a song even with the most prosaic speech. _His _voice.

"No," I whispered, whether to him or myself, I wasn't sure. My foot freed itself from its paralysis and moved of its own accord, stepping toward the boys.

_Get inside. They're not safe. They could hurt you._

My heart suddenly made a reappearance, pounding frantically in my chest as if it had never left, spurred by the sound of absent love. "No." I walked closer to Jared and Paul. They straightened, waiting for me.

_Keep your promise. _The voice was fading now, vanishing in the shadows like its owner.

"You promised me you would stay," I reminded him. He made no response. I didn't know what Jared and Paul must be thinking about me talking to myself, and I didn't care much either. When I drew close enough for normal conversation, I greeted them. "Hey."

They nodded, arms crossed and faces nearly expressionless now.

"I, um…" Now that I actually had to talk to people I didn't know, words didn't want to come out of my mouth. _Stupid little leech lover. _I didn't blame them for having a low opinion of me. I was in love with their one enemy. "I never said thank you. To Sam. For rescuing me. We were both hurt and then…"

They didn't seem inclined to encourage conversation, and just kept on staring.

"I was wondering; do you know… can you tell me… where could I find him?"

Jared finally spoke. "He's patrolling."

"Okay." It felt weird to say this, like I'd dropped by his house uninvited, but I couldn't think how else to get away from such a horrifyingly awkward conversation. "Can you… Would you mind letting him know I came by, and I was looking for him? He said… Before, he said he had something to tell me."

Paul snorted and turned his face away like he didn't even want to see me, but Jared replied, "He knows everything we know. He always does."

"Oh, right. The, uh, the telepathy thing. Okay. Um, thanks. I guess. Have a happy—" I caught myself before I said, "Thanksgiving," and changed it to, "day." God, I was _such _an _idiot._

They didn't bother with a reply. I turned and started walking back to the house, my thoughts racing with speculation. I had heard his voice. And unlike his name, it hadn't hurt at all. He had seemed angry at me for putting myself in danger, and for breaking my promise to him.

I went through the rest of my day separated from the world around me by my musing. There were _so many things _he considered dangerous, so many things of which he didn't approve. Caffeine. Sex. Alcohol. Other boys. Drugs.

There was such a big list from which to choose. So many ways to get him to speak to me.

That night, I curled up in bed, but instead of dreading the hours to come, I welcomed them. Each minute passing brought me closer to Friday night, and the party at Lauren's house.

So many ways.


	4. Meeting Again

**A/N: As always, I need to thank the army of prereaders/betas who keep me from sucking:BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart.**** They're all fantastic writers and you should read their stories. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song that provided background for this chapter is "Alibi" by David Gray.**

**# # #**

"I'm going somewhere tonight," I announced at breakfast, flushed with the prospect of hearing the voice again so soon.

Charlie stared at me as if I'd suddenly burst out with a Shakespearean soliloquy. In Swahili.

Seeing he didn't believe his ears, I elaborated, "To—" and then cut myself off. I couldn't tell Chief Swan I was going to an unsupervised high school party. Even the promise of me socializing for the first time in months couldn't get him to allow that. "To spend the night at…" Better not to say Lauren's. If this was an annual thing then probably he knew about it. There weren't too many (normal) secrets in Forks. "Jessica Stanley's."

Charlie didn't look any less mystified. "Whenever I used to hear you and—" Now it was his turn to redirect verbally. So smoothly I almost didn't notice the break, he continued, "And you talked about Jessica Stanley you said she was annoying."

Jessica _was _annoying, but mostly because she never was at a loss for words. I would give anything to have her ability to cover over every awkward pause, dull moment, and strained silence with her unending flow of babbling conversation, but since I didn't possess it, it only irritated me. "She's not that bad," I contradicted him now. When I heard the words come out of my mouth, I suddenly realized they were true.

Charlie nodded slowly. "All right. Do you need anything before you go?"

_A brain transplant._ This was so dumb.

No, no. This was the only way. The only way to hear him. The only way to stay even a little bit alive. "No, thanks. I've got everything I need." I lifted my spoon to my mouth and pretended to eat the cereal, but my throat couldn't take it. Instead, I sipped the milk down.

That day at work I let Mike's chatter flow over me as usual, but right before we clocked out I managed to stutter, "I-I, um, are you still going? To Lauren's? Tonight?"

He stood, arrested, for a second, and then said cautiously, "Yeah. Sure am. Did you, uh, change your mind or anything?"

"I want to go but I don't know where Lauren's house is." Lauren hated me. Maybe she wouldn't notice me arriving if _everyone _from school was there, though.

Mike instantly gave me the response I wanted. "I can take you! It's on Fuhrman Road but you might have, you know, trouble finding it. Or something."

I couldn't stop my smile of relief, although it instantly faded under the weight of nerves. "Awesome. Can I meet you? At your house? Or somewhere else? Because my dad doesn't know that I'm going."

"What does he think you're doing?" Mike held the door open for me as we walked out to the parking lot.

"Spending the night." He looked at me expectantly. I added, "With Jessica."

He grinned. "Nice. Why don't you just ask Jess if you can park your truck outside her house? Her mom's never home and she won't notice."

_Because I'm going to the party with her ex-boyfriend and I'm pretty sure it's against some kind of girl code to ask for help with that. _ "She's… she doesn't like me."

He looked confused. "Who says?"

I opened my mouth, and then shut it again in befuddlement. _The mind-reader who used to sit next to me at lunch _was the right answer, but… he hadn't been able to read emotions, only thoughts. I thought about that for a second. When I talked to people online, we always had to add tons of clarification and emoticons and everything else because we couldn't read emotion from plain words. Ed—_he _had been able to hear tone, at least, which was something, but given what a difficult time he had reading me, who by all accounts had a face like an open book, I didn't know if he could be… If he could be trusted? Of course he could be trusted, of course he was right… But sometimes he was wrong… If this had been one of those times…

I focused on Mike's face. He still waited patiently for an answer. "I don't know. I guess I just kind of got that impression?"

"I don't think she doesn't like you. I think she was bummed you didn't want to be friends with anybody but the Cullens." I flinched at the name, and crossed my arms over my chest against the pain, but he didn't notice. "We don't get a lot of new kids—the last time that happened it was _them, _and you're the only one they ever wanted to hang out with or whatever. She's trying to get a scholarship to a college in Arizona so she wanted to talk to you about what it's like there, but you were always, you know, busy."

_Busy. _I tried to remember what we'd been doing. Talking, a lot. Homework, almost all the time. Sometimes we'd hike out to the meadow. Well, no, he would carry me there while I closed my eyes and tried not to throw up because I couldn't keep up with him. Every once in a while they played baseball, even though I couldn't play because I'd get hurt. I couldn't do _anything._

No. That wasn't true. I could save Sam.

"You should call her."

I shrugged sheepishly. "I don't have her number."

He pulled out his cell phone, hit a couple of buttons, and then held it out for me. "Here. You can use my phone."

I gulped, and took it, hitting the right button before I could lose my nerve. _His voice, _I reminded myself. _That's why you're doing this._

Jessica answered on the third ring, voice carefully casual. "What's up?"

"Uh, hi, Jessica, it's me. It's Bella." I winced at myself.

"Bella? What—oh, right, you and Mike work together, I forgot. I was thinking about working at Newton's because Mike's mom and my mom are both part of the D.A.R. so I knew they would make sure I got it but thank _God _I didn't because can you imagine how totally _awkward _that would've been? I mean, after that whole thing with Mike and me and—oh right, probably you didn't hear about that. Any-_way, _ so are you going to Lauren's party tonight? Because you should, it's the only thing interesting that happens here all year long basically. I can't _wait _till I get to Phoenix and can actually have a life that doesn't go into a coma at 8 p.m."

"I want to," I told her, and then bit my lip, trying to find the right words. "Um, my dad doesn't know, though. So can I—Mike was saying maybe you wouldn't mind if I—"

"Why don't you tell the chief you'll be spending the night with me and leave your truck there or whatever? I'm going over early to help Lauren set up but you should ask someone to give you a ride. Ask Mike, he loves to show off his car. But don't say yes if he offers to let you see the backseat because _believe _me, those plastic seatbelt buckle covers dig into your back like crazy, swear to God I had bruises for like a week after—oh right, you probably didn't hear about _that, _either."

"I want to." I actually _did _want to. The slight twinge of curiosity took me by surprise.

"Good, because I know Mike's been sniffing around you again, he's like a hyena, he can smell the weakest member of the herd or whatever and ever since that paper doll dumped you, you've been acting like someone stabbed you in the heart and before you know it, Mike'll be in your pants. That's how it works. So you _need _to hear this story unless you want—" The phone went staticky for a moment, and then cleared up in time for me to catch her saying, "—all _over _me, and not even _bleach _was enough. Trust me."

"Wow. That sounds… really bad."

"Oh God yes. Okay. So see you tonight."

"Uh-huh." I flipped the phone shut and handed it back to Mike. "She said it was fine."

"See? Told you. Meet you at her house at seven?"

"Yeah, sounds good." I gave him half a wave as I headed back to my truck.

Once I got home, I stood helpless in the middle of my bedroom. I had _no idea _how to get ready for a party. I'd never even been to one since I turned twelve and could put my foot down with Renée, unless I counted my disastrous birthday "celebration" this year.

Okay. Clothes. Probably I shouldn't wear a flannel overshirt.

I opened my closet and stared in confusion at the mass of clothes hanging there, mostly gifts from my mother and Ali—_her. _Avoiding anything with a designer label, I began to pull hangers across the rod and examine their contents. I hadn't worn a dress in years.

Something flashed through my memory: Angela and Jessica, whispering in the back of English class about Angela's date with Ben that night. "Wear a skirt," Jessica advising. "Easy access and you can stay sitting up without your ass hanging out." Angela blushing and rolling her eyes even while she said, "Believe it or not, I _had _ thought of that."

_Other boys. _The thing that made him the most angry, though usually at them, not me. I wasn't sure if I could be interesting enough to get a boy to even try to—do _that—_with me, but if my minimal flirting skills would prove effective with anyone it would be Mike. Except—I was planning on drinking tonight too. In movies that always made people way more fun and slutty. Maybe that would work for me.

_Don't go, Bella._

I shivered with delight at the dulcet tones. "I have to. You won't stay with me any other way."

_It's not safe. They'll hurt you._

"Nobody can hurt me as badly as you." Pulling some random things out, I turned to lay them on the bed.

_You promised._

"Come back and stop me," I begged, taking the bag off a three-quarter-sleeved dress with wide diagonal blue and black stripes. The Hot Topic tag was still attached. Probably Renée had bought a matching one for herself while she was there.

No answer. Not that it surprised me in the least. I knew I was talking to a figment of my imagination, or, best case scenario, my memory. It was just the best thing I had going for me at the moment. I held the dress up to my front and turned to look at myself in the full-length mirror. It was ridiculous. I had no boobs and this dress had a V-neck calculated to expose what I didn't have. Well, maybe I could wear a coat all night. Suddenly light-headed at the prospect, I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed. I couldn't do this. I couldn't go see all those people. Not even _his _voice would be enough to—

When I moved my foot, my heel hit something. Something that rattled.

I got down on my hands and knees to peer under the bed, and then pulled out the bottle that had rolled across the floor. Klonopin. Three mg. _Take one tablet once daily as needed for situational anxiety._ It must have fallen out of Renée's purse when she emptied it out on my bed. _Situational anxiety. _Well, this was a situation that was causing major anxiety.

Weighing the bottle on my palm, I contemplated what to do. I always, always frowned on drug use, even cold medicine, when not absolutely necessary.

_Don't take those, Bella._

I started. My heart began pounding wildly again.

_There's no way to know how you'll react to them._

Didn't I know it. Sometimes Renée and her friends would dump out their bottles and trade one type for another. The results usually proved… interesting. But then, Renée always seemed so much happier after she'd taken them.

Just one. Just this once.

_Don't. _His voice gained greater urgency. _There might be side-effects you don't know about._

So what if I died? Big deal. Like anyone would care.

_Charlie._

Okay, Charlie. But… he looked so worried all the time. So sad. Everything I did only made him more unhappy. He'd be better off without me, even if he didn't know it yet. Moving quickly, I got up and ran to the bathroom, unscrewing the cap and shaking out a single pill into my mouth before the voice could persuade me otherwise. Once that was done, I went back to my room and stripped. My ribs stuck out and my hair was lank and… how long had it been since I took a shower? I couldn't remember. It seemed like so much work to actually _wash _my hair. I trudged back to the bathroom anyway, showered and shaved, and then put on my best underwear. I didn't have any matching sets but at least it was pretty and didn't clash. I tugged the dress over my head. It was a little loose because of my not eating much lately. Good thing Renée always bought clothes a size too small to help inspire me to lose weight. After tearing the tag off, I looked at myself some more. I was so pale.

Renée's gift of makeup still sat on my nightstand, untouched. I dumped it out on my bed, trying to figure out what to do. Okay. Probably the light tan powder went on first, with the big brush. But what about this tube of paler tan cream? Concealer. I wanted to conceal the huge circles under my eyes and the pink scars on my cheek. Maybe that was what it was meant to do? I smeared some on under my eyes. Okay, no. Clearly it needed one of those triangle sponge thingies.

After some trial and error, recalling the few times I'd watched Renée apply her own cosmetics, I managed to get myself looking halfway alive, although eyeliner was too scary and I skipped it altogether, opting for eyeshadow and mascara instead. By the time I had brushed my hair, it was time to go. I put the prescription bottle into my purse before I took off. The Klonopin didn't seem to have helped at all, though, because my stomach churned with nerves all the way over to Jessica's house. I knew where it was—everyone knew where it was. Mike was already there, leaning against the passenger side door of his blue Tracer. When I got out of my truck, his face lit up in a grin. "Hey! You look nice. Ready to go?"

No, I wasn't. I wanted to turn around and drive back home as quickly as legally possible and hide under my covers. _His voice. His voice. His voice. _"Yeah. Let's go."

He opened the door for me before I could stop him. I paused for a second, sickness punching me in the gut at the memories the gesture brought back.

"You okay?" he asked, when I stood still a little too long.

"Sure. Sorry." With a forced smile, I sat down.

Everything in Forks was five minutes away, or ten maximum, so I didn't have nearly enough time to prepare myself before Mike pulled up to the curb. I looked questioningly at the dark and empty house beside us. "Why is it so quiet?"

"Lauren's house is down the street," he explained. He got out, grabbed a bag from the trunk, and met me on the sidewalk—I opened my own door before he could—and added, "If we all park right there in front we'll get busted. Can't have your dad catching us."

"Oh." How was it that everybody else knew this stuff and I didn't? Just one more example of how I failed at life in general and being a high schooler in particular.

When we walked in, a wall of sound, scent and smoke hit me in the face. I blinked, trying to find my bearings in the dim light. I had worried about facing Lauren, but there were so many people here it seemed likely she would never notice me.

Eric Yorkie backed into me almost the moment Mike swung the door shut behind us. "Oh shit, sorry—" He turned and looked shocked for a second. "Sorry, Bella. Hey."

I tried to make myself smile, but I felt the corners of my mouth twitch up and then down again with tension. "Hey."

"Want something to drink?" Mike cut in, angling his body to stand between Eric and me. He put his hand on my elbow to guide me to the kitchen. "Everything's in here. What would you like?"

I made an indecisive gesture with one hand. "I-I don't know. What's good?"

He pulled out a twelve-pack of beer from the bag he carried, set it on the counter, and then picked through the ice in the sink, turning bottles and looking at labels. Finally, he picked one and opened it. "Here." Turning, he handed me a bottle with red stuff in it that said Bacardi Breezer. "This is pretty girly."

_Don't do this, Bella._

Oh God. He sounded so _real. _I missed his voice so much.

_Your judgement will be impaired._

Ah, well. I wasn't really using it anyway. Cautiously, I lifted the bottle to my mouth for a sip. It tasted pretty good and I didn't have any problem swallowing for once.

_Put the bottle down and go home._

Sure, right. Maybe I could go lie in bed and have a few nightmares and not eat some more. I was so _thirsty. _Mike had started talking to Ben and Angela. Angela edged over and smiled. "How're you doing, Bella? I'm glad you came."

I shrugged and drank again. "I'm okay. I guess."

Angela's eyes, as always, looked through me with uncomfortable perception. "You've been really sad since they left, haven't you? I'd have a hard time if Ben had to move."

My chin wobbled, but I firmed it before I could start crying. "Yeah, it's been… yeah."

She put a hand on my shoulder. "If you want to hang out sometime, you should give me a call. I remember when Tyler and I broke up in freshman year I had no idea what to do by myself anymore. We used to be with each other all the time and then… nothing. I was bored."

Tears stung my eyes. She was so _nice. _"Thanks." Too bad she didn't know what a freak I was. If she hung out with me for longer than five minutes she'd figure it out, though.

I glanced at the bottle and found to my surprise that it was empty. My head felt weird, too. Too late, it occurred to me that maybe an empty stomach and alcohol wasn't the wisest combination. Before I could think it through too far, I grabbed another bottle and opened it.

"Bella? Want to dance?" Mike put his hand on the small of my back. I knew I should stop him now, before he thought I was offering something I didn't mean to, but it felt nice to have someone touching me.

To my complete shock, I heard myself giggle. I had honestly thought I would never laugh again. "Mike, you've seen me in gym class. Do you think it's a good idea for us to dance? I might end up breaking your neck accidentally." I snapped my mouth shut in confusion. That had come out really easily. And it almost sounded… flirty. I looked down at the bottle in my hand with suspicion.

Mike laughed, too. "Well, maybe not. We can at least go to the living room, though." He guided me into the other room, which was even more crowded with people dancing in the open areas and leaning against the walls as they talked.

The instant we stepped through the entryway, I stiffened. "What's _he_ doing here?"

Mike followed my gaze across the smoky room, where Lauren stood talking to _Paul_, of all people. Paul looked back at me instantly, but rolled his eyes and half-turned away. "You know him? We were up at La Push for a bonfire last weekend, and some of the reservation kids came out. I think Lauren kind of likes that guy, so she invited them. I'm surprised he came though. They had this guy with them who was college age and he told them not to count on it, like he was in charge or something."

"Yeah, I know him. He was there, when I… got lost." I drank some more and stared broodingly at Paul, ignoring the occasional jostling from people weaving through the crowd. He wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to have any reminders of that time around me. When I finished off the second bottle, my stomach growled loudly enough for me to hear it even over the pounding bass beat. "God, I'm _starving._"

Mike pointed to the table against the wall behind us. "You want some chips? Or some of this veggie tray?"

"Yeah, both, thanks." I took the plate he offered and took a bite. It went down effortlessly, as if the alcohol had loosened the muscles that usually prevented swallowing. "Oh my God. This is so good. I haven't been able to eat for forever."

"Well, here, she's got cheese and crackers and stuff too." He grabbed things at random and added them to what I already had.

"I _love _sharp cheddar cheese." I heard myself babbling but couldn't seem to stop. "It's like so good. And Charlie never buys it, he only ever gets mozzarella and I _hate _mozzarella. I should tell him to stop but I always forget before he goes to the store and then he comes home with more of the damn mozzarella."

Mike looked confused and entertained at the same time. "You call your dad Charlie?"

I nodded as I shoveled more food into my mouth. When I swallowed, I continued, "Yeah. 'Cause that's what Renée always called him and you know, I only saw him for a couple weeks a year until I moved up here. He wrote sometimes but I never wrote back. So he's Charlie. But only behind his back because I don't want to hurt his feelings."

Shaking his head in apparent bemusement, Mike took my plate and refilled it. "I've never heard you talk this much."

The misery was still there, under the soothing effervescence of the alcohol, but at least I didn't feel like everybody was staring at me waiting for me to screw up like I usually did. "Most of the time, I don't have a lot to say. Seriously, this cheese is _so good. _I could eat an entire block. Can I have more to drink?"

"No problem." He took the empty bottle from me and disappeared.

A wave of heat smacked into my back. Twisting a little, I saw Paul glaring behind me. "Yeah? What?" I demanded before stuffing a pepperoni cube into my mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Don't you know you've got that redheaded bitch after you still?"

I glared right back at him. "Yeah, probably I should stay locked in my home. My super-safe bedroom window latch should keep her out, because everybody knows vampires have to be invited into your house. Oh, wait."

His eyes narrowed. "So you decided instead to come out and put a target sign on your back? Smart."

"Saves everyone some trouble."

I started to turn away, but he trapped my elbow in a febrile grip and leaned in to whisper, "I'm only here because Sam says we have to keep an eye on your leech-loving ass since you're the best bait we've got for the vampire. I followed you and Pretty Boy Next Door over here and beat you to the house and you never even noticed. So try to stay alive long enough for us to burn her, all right? After that, I don't care how you kill yourself."

I wrenched my arm away. "Fuck you." A second later, I gave a bark of disbelieving laughter and clapped my hand over my mouth. I had never said that word in my life. Never. His hands trembled as he sneered.

_Be careful, Bella, _the voice warned. _Don't make him angry._

Paul straightened. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You wish."

I gaped in outrage, but he walked away before I could come up with a sufficiently cutting remark. Mike walked up and handed me a new bottle. "What'd he say? You look pissed."

I drank without looking away from Paul. "Nothing." So he was here on Sam's orders, was he? A small ribbon of hope uncurled in my gut, spiraling upward. Maybe Sam was somewhere around.

Jessica Stanley careened over toward us on three-inch heels. "Hi Mike," she said with studied nonchalance, and grabbed my hand to pull me over into a corner. "Okay, so, spill."

Confused, I asked, "Spill about what?"

"That guy from La Push! You know him, right? You're the first person he's talked to all night besides Lauren."

"Oh. No. He helped… when I got lost." Her lips parted, more questions shining in her eyes, but I cut her off with some redirection. "So this story that you wanted to tell me about Mike—what was it?"

"Oh my God. Yes. So back when we were still together we had been fooling around and you know how it is, I mean, you have to give it up _sometime _unless you're like Courtney Hale and take it up the ass every weekend so you can still call yourself a virgin. So I had been planning for weeks about how I would…"

I tuned out without really meaning to, looking around at all the people. They seemed so _happy. _Why couldn't I be good at this sort of stuff like they were? It seemed like everybody else had such an easy time doing the friendship thing. I only fit in with vampires. Now that they were gone, I didn't think I'd ever find another place where I belonged.

I needed to hear him again.

So far I'd gotten a response from alcohol and from a werewolf, as well as prescription drugs. The next thing on my list: sex. My gaze, now spinning from what I'd drunk, landed unsteadily on Mike.

Jessica was still talking. "—all _over _me, I mean, it was _everywhere, _my face, my neck, my chest, the ceiling of his car, _everywhere, _ and I'm like, what the hell, Mike, can't you just _block _it or something, it's so damn itchy when it dries, I need to clean it _up _now, it's like you can't do _anything _right. I mean, it had only been sixty seconds! And that was when I decided to say 'screw it' about high school boys. From now on I'm picking up guys from the community college at Port Ange."

I looked at her, suddenly interested. "Wow. That sounds really cool. Where do you meet them?"

She shrugged. "You know, clubs and stuff. Half the time they card me because of this damn baby face, but once they find out I'm eighteen it's totally on."

Ooh. College boys. He wouldn't like that at _all. _"Can I come sometime?"

A brief flash of surprise crossed her face, but she recovered quickly. "Sure, the more the merrier, and we can dance with each other if it's too lame at first. Nothing like a couple of girls grinding together to get the boys to pay attention."

I had absolutely no intention of dancing with anyone, male or female, but casual sex sounded like an _excellent _plan. In fact, maybe I should get some practice right now. "I guess I'd better go back to Mike. But can you call me the next time you go to Port Ange?"

"Yeah, I will." She smiled with what looked like genuine pleasure.

I had a hard time keeping my balance now. When I got to Mike, I tripped and tumbled into him. Instead of drawing back in blushing, stammering humiliation the way I normally would have, though, I only laughed. It was _so funny_ how I couldn't stay upright. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I said with a giggle, "I think the floor's moving. 'S the only explanation."

Looking like Christmas had come early, he hugged me around my waist. "You might've had a little bit too much to drink."

"Mm, no," I disagreed. I was warm and the room was rotating but my skin didn't feel wrong and Mike was a nice guy. "Jusht _enough_ to drink." Hey, maybe if I kissed him he would get the right idea. I stood on tiptoe and pressed my mouth to his. He made a startled noise, but he was up for the challenge. I closed my eyes and concentrated as our lips moved against each other. Hmm. Okay, that wasn't nearly as cold as I was used to, and it was weird to have flesh giving way beneath my own instead of forcing mine to conform to its shape, but it didn't feel _bad. _It didn't feel all that good, either. Probably I needed to try harder. Pulling back, I gazed at him from beneath my eyelashes. "Can we go somewhere?"

_Bella, no. _His voice was a snarl. _Not Mike Newton._

My breath came faster with the thrill of hearing his words. Mike, probably misinterpreting the cause, said, "C'mon," and grabbed my hand to lead me down the hallway past the living room.

_His intentions aren't honorable, Bella._

Like that was news. _Neither are mine, _I silently replied. Still holding my bottle, I followed Mike into a small bedroom occupied with a desk and sewing machine. Scraps of fabric and patterns for clothes littered every available surface. I stopped just inside the door, sudden doubt closing my throat again. "Hold on a second." I pawed through my purse as I walked to the desk and pulled out the Klonopin, and washed down another tablet.

_Why must you be so foolish? You promised me._

If I ignored him, maybe he would stay. Turning around to face Mike again, I braced my palms against the desk and gave him what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "Where were we?"

He closed the door behind him and the next thing I knew, I had Mike Newton's hands all over me. The problem was, I was used to ignoring my body, and I couldn't do that with him touching me and kissing me and stroking and rubbing places that had never been touched by anything other than a bath pouf. It was so disconcerting I couldn't even tell if he was any good at it or not. And the more I focused on what my body was feeling, the weirder I felt.

"I feel really… strange," I whimpered against Mike's mouth.

He stood straight. I couldn't see his face in the dark as he asked, "Are you sick? Do you need to throw up?"

I swallowed a couple of times. "I don't know. I jusht… I took this medicine, and…"

The door burst open, and Mike and I nearly jumped out of our skins. Peering over his shoulder while pulling my dress's neckline back into place, I stared in disbelief at the figure in the doorway. Broad shoulders, looming height, ramrod-straight posture… "Sam? Sam Uley?"

He strode in and bent to my ear. "She's nearby. You need to get out of here." His shirtless torso gave off the same unreal heat I remembered. I wanted to bask in the warmth.

Get out of here. It wouldn't do any good. I giggled. "I can jusht stand outside and yell, 'here I am! You don't need to go to all the trouble anymore!'"

"Who's this guy, Bella?" Mike wanted to know, nervously pulling his shirt down and running his hands through his hair.

"He'sh _Sam,_" I explained patiently.

Paul was in the room. I couldn't remember if I had seen him enter. "Sam." He held something out to his leader. Squinting, I saw that it was the Klonopin bottle. It must have fallen out of my purse onto the desk.

Sam held it up to the light streaming through the open door. "How many did you take, Bella?"

"Two," I replied sulkily.

He shook his head and handed it back to Paul. "Toss the bottle. Bury it deep enough that no one will see it." Paul nodded and disappeared again. "That stuff can make you suicidal, Bella. It's not safe for teenagers."

I laughed, a helpless guffaw. "I already _am _ready to die." Disregarding Mike's sharp intake of breath, I continued, "It's not the medishine's fault. You promised me you would tell me how to go on and you haven't and I need to know."

He went utterly still for a few moments. At last, he spoke. "If you come with me now, I'll tell you. But we need to go. I can't keep this many people safe."

Sliding down from the desk, I swayed and grabbed the edge for balance. "Where are we going?"

"But, Bella—" Mike protested.

Blinking hard, I tried to focus on his disappointed face. I knew it was bad manners not to leave with the guy who brought me, but he'd be more disappointed if he ended up eaten by a vampire. "I'm sorry, Mike, but Sam's right. I shouldn't shtay."

Sam ignored this. "Does your dad expect you back home tonight?" I shook my head no. "Then I'm taking you to my house. The rez is easiest to protect."

As I followed him out the bedroom door, I was already struggling to keep up."How will I get there? Did you bring a car?" Around me, I gathered a vague impression of staring faces and excited murmuring, but I was too dizzy and confused to really take in the details.

"I'll have to carry you," he replied. Paul fell in beside him as we moved toward the front door. I stumbled over my own feet and nearly fell, but Sam zipped back and caught my elbow so quickly I didn't see him move. Once we were down the street a little bit, Sam turned to Paul. "Phase and let Jared know we're on our way back. Go on ahead. If there's any trouble I'll know."

Paul nodded and jogged away from us. For the first time, I noticed he was barefoot.

Sam looked at me. "Is it all right if I pick you up now?"

I nodded. When he lifted me into his arms, I waited to hear the voice protest again. After all, Sam had warned me he was dangerous. To my surprise, the voice remained silent. I leaned my head against Sam's shoulder.

"I haven't been sleeping," I told him for no particular reason, except that my usual watch over my speech had been eliminated.

"I'm not surprised."

My eyelids drifted shut before we were out of Forks.


	5. Waking Up

**A/N: As always, I need to thank the army of prereaders/betas who keep me from sucking: BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart. They****'re all fantastic writers and you should read their stories. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song that provided background for this chapter is "Sleeper" by Kye Kye.**

# # #

I woke up in Sam Uley's bed.

I knew it was Sam's before I opened my eyes. Everything smelled like him. I hadn't even realized I knew what he smelled like, but I did—the forest and fresh air and the beach, only way better because it was human. Mostly human. Well, at least half. For a minute, I actually thought he was in bed with me and arched, trying to press my back against him the way I had before.

He wasn't there, of course. Sighing, I rolled over onto my stomach and burrowed under the pillows. It felt so amazing to wake up from a good night's sleep that at first I hadn't even noticed the dull throb of what had to be a hangover pounding into my temples. Once acknowledged, it couldn't be ignored. I groaned and rolled up to sit on the edge of the bed, blinking against daylight that seemed far too harsh despite the cloud cover that blocked the sun. Looking down, I saw I still wore my dress from the night before. My phone lay on the dust-covered nightstand, blinking, but when I picked it up it only showed a low-battery warning and the time: eleven o'clock. I sent a text to Charlie: _Everything's cool. I'll be home later. _Probably he wouldn't even receive it for hours—the fishing holes he frequented on the weekends didn't get much cell phone service.

My head hurt so badly I wondered if I would throw up from the pain. After a few minutes of squinting and rubbing my temples, I decided I wasn't going to, so I rose unsteadily to my feet. Moving with caution, I wobbled out of the room toward where the bathroom had been in the Clearwaters' home. Sam's house seemed to have an identical floor plan. After I used the bathroom and contemplated vomiting some more (still no), I realized my mouth tasted like a small rodent had crawled into it and died. The bathroom wasn't dirty, just unused like the bedroom, but I felt weird going through the medicine cabinet. It was either that or keep morning breath that could kill an elephant at fifty paces, though, so I pawed through the shelves until I found a bottle of mouthwash. Once I used that, I felt a little more like myself. I discovered some unscented deodorant and swiped it on too, then washed my face and hands and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like hell. The remnants of my mascara emphasized the depth of the circles under my eyes, the makeup had long since rubbed off the bright pink scars across my cheek, my hair stood up on one side, and half my bra had been exposed by my shifting neckline.

The sight reminded me of making out with Mike Newton. And my total lack of reaction to making out with Mike Newton. Surely that couldn't be normal. Could it? It couldn't be natural to have someone's tongue in your mouth and his hands on your boobs and be completely unaffected, except to feel lightheaded and dizzy, right? I distinctly remembered kissing—_him—_and getting turned on, even though we'd never progressed beyond the closed-mouth stage. What if there was something wrong with me? What if my body was so messed up that it could only get turned on by a vampire? Did I have to be under threat of death to have an orgasm nowadays? Not that I knew from experience—I hadn't had one since I figured out the truth about the Cullens.

Damn it. I'd thought the name. The corresponding stab of pain made me gasp. My face in the mirror twisted with agony. At least now, though, I knew there were things I could do to make the hurt fade, however temporarily. I just had to make sure I knew when the next party would be. After running my fingers through my hair, rubbing off the eye makeup specks, and straightening my clothes, I took a deep breath and unwillingly headed out to see who was around.

The sagging couch in the living room hid my view of the floor, but as I approached, I heard Sam's voice muttering, as always the same three names: Jared, Paul… Emily. Who didn't want him. I circled around the couch and watched him for a second, curled up on the floor, as he twitched and moaned in his sleep. Mindful of his warning from before, I hesitated to try to wake him, but in the end I just couldn't stand to see him so upset. Sleep was supposed to be _restful, _for God's sake. Kneeling on the battered, holey rug, I touched his shoulder. "Sam. Wake up. You're dreaming again."

He tossed his head fitfully.

I probably shouldn't shake him, or do anything that might make him feel threatened. Instead, I opted to lay my palm against his cheek. "Wake up, Sam."

Instantly, my hand flew up in the air, propelled by the speed of his retreat. I blinked, looking wildly around the room, and finally found him pressed against the wall opposite, palms to the wood paneling. His complete withdrawal was made even more bizarre by the lack of expression on his face.

His voice was completely steady. "I thought I told you to let me dream."

I swallowed before responding. "I know you did."

He took a deep breath and relaxed minutely, stepping away from the wall. "I'll be right back. There isn't much to eat here, but if you find anything feel free." Striding past me, he flung the front door open and strode out into the woods.

I stood and wiped my sweaty palms on my dress. Food. I swallowed again, testing my throat's reaction this time. Not too bad. I might be able to eat a little. Hopefully I wouldn't have to start drinking every time I needed to choke down a few bites. Well, regardless of whether or not I ate, Sam was undoubtedly hungry, and if he didn't even know what food he had then probably he wasn't eating enough. Plus, I hadn't cooked in a while and I was starting to miss it.

I walked to the kitchen and looked around. The sink was bone-dry and didn't look like it had been used... ever. Not very promising. Opening the fridge, I beheld a huge block of cheese with a USDA label on it, an 18-count carton of eggs, a quart of milk that had expired two weeks earlier, and half a pound of butter. I could work with that. I banged around in cabinets until I found a frying pan and spatula, and then set the pan to heat. While I waited for it to be ready, I took a rag I'd found, measured out a couple of drops from the nearly-empty dish detergent bottle onto it, and started scrubbing. I couldn't cook in this much dust, even if it was just a little accumulation from neglect rather than slovenliness. By the time I got the tiny counter up to minimal standards, it was time to whip the eggs. I cracked as many as Charlie and I usually ate, back when I still _could _eat, but then thought better of it and added a few more. Sam clearly needed more nourishment than the typical man. I let them set and dumped out the milk, rinsed out the gallon, and put a new garbage bag in the empty can. I grabbed the spatula and stirred with one hand while opening the upper cabinets with the other, looking for dishes. Finally, I found a couple of mismatched plastic plates that I remembered seeing on the seventy-five-percent-off shelves at Target the year before. They had to be rinsed off—dust again—but they were fine.

I took the eggs off the heat and started slicing thin curls of cheese over the top just as Sam came back into the house. "Jared says there's been no sign of the redhead since last—"

I turned to see what could have made him stop talking so suddenly. He was staring at me, expression still unreadable, but strong emotion lurked in the depths of his eyes. "Is this okay?" I asked, holding out a plate with the majority of the food on it. "I hope you like eggs." Maybe he hated them and was trying to figure out how to tell me. It would explain why they were one of four things left in the fridge.

He made a sudden, almost fluttering motion with one hand, except that Sam Uley could never do something so indecisive. "I like eggs," he said after a strange silence.

"Okay." I offered the plate again. He took it and made his way to the small table, never looking away from me. I found the silverware drawer on my second try, so I scrubbed off a couple of forks and gave him one. He was still looking at me. It made me self-conscious. "If you don't eat those now, they'll go stone cold and you won't want them."

Obediently, he scooped some eggs up and took a bite. I turned back for my own plate and came to join him. After one bite, I felt my throat constrict again and sighed. Yeah. That would have been too much to expect. I settled for stabbing bits and pieces with my fork, spreading it out more and more thinly across the plate's circumference, while watching Sam eat out of the corner of my eye and trying not to smile too obviously with satisfaction. That was two things I could do for him: I had saved his life, and I had fed him when he obviously didn't feed himself. In some odd way, the tie that saving him produced made me feel that caring for him was caring for myself in extension. Sure, he had saved my life, and come to rescue me last night, so that probably made us even, but that was a novelty too: being on equal ground with a supernatural being.

When he cleaned his plate, I pushed mine forward. "Here. I'm not really hungry. You should eat mine."

He looked at the food longingly but shook his head. "You should eat. Whether or not you feel hungry, you've lost a lot of weight. Carrying you last night was as easy as carrying a kitten."

I picked at the eggs and shook my head, staring at them so I didn't have to meet those uncomfortably perceptive eyes. "I try, but my throat closes up and the food won't go down."

He went quiet for so long that at last I lifted my gaze. Still no expression on the broad, strong features, but his voice was very gentle when he said, "Try the smallest bites you can get onto your fork. I'll get you some water to help you wash it down."

I didn't want to try, but it wasn't worth an argument. I put a tiny portion on my tongue just as he brought me a glass of water. When I swallowed it I could wash the food down like a pill. He didn't watch as I continued the strange process, but I got the feeling his attention was all on me even if he seemed to be keeping an eye out the window. Once I forced most of the food down, I rose before he could get me to eat the rest and grabbed his plate, heading for the sink.

The loaded silence practically forced me to talk. "Do you live here by yourself?" I asked as I scrubbed.

Again, there was that weird pause, but he replied, "This is Allison's house, but she lives with her boyfriend for now."

"Allison?" I glanced over my shoulder at him, reaching for the frying pan.

"My mom."

Hmm. So he called his mom by her first name too.

"I… don't spend much time here."

Grabbing a dishtowel I'd found in one of the drawers, I turned to see him looking around the house with a vaguely puzzled air, as if he was seeing it for the first time in years. "You're always out in the woods, finding dumb girls who can't follow a walking trail. Or fighting off vampires." I shook out the towel and started drying the plates.

"I don't think you're dumb," he said automatically, but his eyebrows furrowed a little. "It's true I'm usually on patrol, though. There are only three of us and there's a lot of land to cover."

That surprised me. "A lot of land? I thought the reservation was pretty small."

Sam shook his head, finally making eye contact again. "We don't just stay on the rez. We've got a pretty big swath of territory that's our responsibility, plus lately because we don't have to stay on it, we've been going to keep an eye on you to try to trap the redhead."

I tilted my head in confusion. "Have to stay on it? Who makes you stay on it usually?"

His face set in grim lines. "It's not important. It doesn't apply now anyway." I swayed as a sudden vicious wave of pain overwhelmed my head. "Here. Sit down before you fall down. Drink some more water; you're probably dehydrated." He rose and pulled out the chair as he spoke, and then refilled my glass and brought it to me, kneeling so he was on my level. "You were pretty far gone last night. How much did you have to drink?"

I shrugged, holding the glass between my clasped hands as I stared down at my lap. "I don't know. Two or three bottles of stuff? I wasn't… I've never…" I couldn't admit I'd never drunk anything alcoholic before. It made me sound like such a loser. Hell, I _was _a loser. "I wasn't that drunk. I still knew what I was doing. It was just _easier. _ I didn't pass out when you got me; I fell asleep."

Sam bent to look at my face between the curtains of my hair. His big hands lay on the armrests on either side of my chair. "You look tired."

I glanced up from my lap, searching his features. It wasn't such a contrast under the brown, but he had huge circles beneath his eyes too, dark as bruises. "So do you." We gazed at each other for a minute. When he didn't look away, I turned my attention to my glass again. I _was _thirsty, but I felt too awkward to drink with him watching. As if he sensed it, he rose and sat next to me again. I drank half the water and then asked, "Are you going to tell me about Victoria?"

"Victoria?"

"The redhead." My hands wouldn't hold still; they turned the glass around and around. "You said she was nearby last night. Did she come here?"

"No, I think she lost your trail when I carried you here. My scent must have masked yours."

The lump of sick fear in my throat wouldn't go away. _Don't be an idiot. You wish you were dead anyway. Who cares how it happens?_

"Do you really wish you were dead?"

For one aghast second, I thought I had spoken aloud, but then I remembered what I had told him the night before. I couldn't say "yes," but I managed to shrug. "Maybe you should use me as bait, like Paul said. Tie me out on a tree trunk and wait for her to show up. Hell, you don't even have to tie me, I'll just wait."

"I won't use you like that unless things become way more desperate than they are now," he responded. "I certainly won't put you out in the middle of the woods and hope for the best regardless. Paul said that?"

Nodding, I turned the glass some more.

"He's just trying to get you angry. He likes spreading it around."

One corner of my mouth lifted in acknowledgement of his wry tone. "I wouldn't blame you. If that was what you thought was best."

"I'm not going to help you to a guilt-free death, if that's what you're hoping for," Sam replied, and though his tone was even as ever, I felt the anger beneath it.

"Have you ever wanted to die?" I asked, rather than give him a straight answer.

"Yes."

The instant response hung in the air between us. Knowing how rude it was didn't stop me. "For a long time?"

He leaned back, posture deliberately casual, as if we were discussing the weather. "For months."

"Do you wish you could die now? Today?"

"No."

"Why not?" On one level, I couldn't believe I was having this conversation, but I was so desperate for answers that I couldn't silence myself.

"If I died, Paul and Jared would be on their own against vampires. The tribe would be less protected. There would be no one to guide the others who phase for the first time. Paul and Jared are only sixteen, after all."

My eyes bugged out of my head with shock. "Sixteen? I thought they were at least twenty-four or twenty-five!"

"No, they're both younger than you."

"You're not, though, are you." It wasn't a question.

"No, I'm nineteen."

Judging solely by his behavior I would have guessed far older. "So the reason you're not sorry you're alive is because you want to keep people safe and help Paul and Jared."

Sam's face, if possible, got even grimmer. "Not just them. There'll be others, too. I can feel it, like... it's kind of like what I've heard amputees talk about, when they have a phantom pain in the limb that's been removed. Paul and Jared can feel it too, but it's worse for me because I'm Alpha."

"Alpha. The leader. The first to turn into a wolf, too?" At his answering nod, I pushed, "Is that what helped? What made you stop wanting to die?" I'd wanted more than anything else in the world to become immortal. Maybe becoming something other than human had been the key for him.

"No." He spoke with absolute finality. "That was what made me want to kill myself."

I folded my lips in on themselves, processing the statement.

"Why are you telling me this? You can't talk about it very often."

His knuckles drummed on the tabletop exactly twice and then stopped. "I never talk about it. Nobody needs to know."

"But you think I do? Because it might help me?" He nodded again. I argued, "I can't do what you do to make myself… meaningful. I can't keep people safe like you."

"You helped me. It's been a long time since anyone did that."

Somehow he had latched onto the one thing that had made me feel better about myself in months. I set the glass down on the table and traced its edge, watching my finger slide back and forth. Suddenly, shyness overwhelmed me. "How… how long?"

His voice was so frustrating. I could tell he felt deeply, but I couldn't read the emotion at _all. _"I can't remember the last time."

Wow. Sam really was all alone. "I'm glad I could." I forced myself to look at him again. "Really glad."

He watched me, obviously thinking, for a while. "You didn't just help me; you helped everyone on the rez. Everything that I said gives me a reason to live? You helped all of that when you held me together that night."

I knew he was just trying to help me feel better. Nonetheless, his words sparked a little glow of pride, and I smiled. He didn't smile back, but his eyes softened. My breath caught oddly in my chest in response. Trying to hide it, I took a hasty sip of water—my throat tightened but I managed to swallow—and said, "Probably I should get home so you can rest or whatever. But… you can't carry me in broad daylight, so what should we do?"

He nodded, thinking it over. "Your dad is up here, fishing with Billy Black. Why don't you go meet him and tell him your friends and you came up to walk on First Beach, but you heard he was around and decided to meet him? Say you talked to me and I mentioned it."

"That's a good idea." I pretended to take another sip of water, but it wouldn't go down. I didn't want to leave his house, where I could sleep and not dream. I didn't want to go back to my bed, and the memories it held. "Who knows about you? Billy, obviously."

"Billy, Harry Clearwater, Old Quil Ateara. The elders of the tribe. Kim, Jared's... girl."

"Do Paul and Jared's parents?"

Sam laughed, a quick, nearly silent exhalation. "No. We're all experts at coming up with cover stories. Paul's dad doesn't care so much, but Jared's parents take some work to convince."

"Do you have people _you _need to convince?" As soon as I said the words, I winced. "No, I'm sorry, I'm being so nosy—" What was wrong with me? I never asked anybody this many questions about themselves.

"It's okay." He stood and handed me my purse, which had been hanging on the back of his chair. "I don't have to hide anything from anyone. The only people who care already know."

Tribal elders. Two teenage boys. No women or girls… except Kim and me.

Sam walked me as far as the Clearwaters' house, where I found Charlie about to get into his cruiser and head back to Forks. When I turned to thank Sam, he had already disappeared.

I dutifully delivered my cover story to Charlie. He seemed to accept it, but about halfway home he said, "Did you forget your clothes, Bella?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, Jessica let me borrow a nightshirt but I didn't want to go home and get another outfit before we came up to La Push."

"Hmm."

I waited nervously, but no other questions seemed forthcoming. When we pulled up in front of Jessica's house, I breathed a sigh of relief and made my escape.

The next week seemed to go by at a snail's pace. Every night, I stood at my window and looked out into the woods, trying to see my guardians, but they hid themselves too well. At school, I could barely concentrate. My thoughts were too eaten up by Lauren's party, what I'd done, what Sam had told me, and above all the threat to my life from Victoria. Jessica and Angela plied me with excited questions about Sam and Paul, but I didn't know what to tell them. By Friday, I was so jumpy that if someone looked at me too hard I had to fight off an urge to scream. On the other hand, my internal pain had grown to unmanageable levels. Compared to that, Victoria seemed like an afterthought. I had no idea what to do about it.

Until, that is, Jessica leaned over to me at lunch and said, "Hey Bella. A bunch of us are going to Port Angeles tonight. We're gonna get ready at my house first and then all drive down together. Do you have to work?"

I glanced at Mike uncertainly. He shook his head with a little smile. It was the first time we'd made eye contact all week. "I guess not."

"Want to come?"

_Don't go, Bella. You'll be risking so much._

I suppressed my excited trembling and replied, "Absolutely."


	6. Burning Down

**A/N: Undying love and gratitude to the army of prereaders/betas who keep me from sucking: BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart.**** They're all fantastic writers and you should read their stories, like I do. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song that provided background for this chapter is "Heart in a Cage" by The Strokes.**

# # #

I texted Charlie before he came home: _I'm going to spend the night with Jess again._

He called me back almost immediately. "Is Jessica's mom going to be home?" was the first thing out of his mouth, even beating "hello."

"I-I don't know," I answered blankly. I had never had to cover my tracks for normal teenage rebellion before. Most likely this was something anyone else I knew would have already handled.

"Call and find out. I don't want you over there unsupervised."

A brief flare of anger—_I'm an adult, damn it—_and then resignation. Maybe Jessica could come up with a story. "Sure. Okay."

Jessica had put her number into my phone at lunch, but I hadn't expected to call her so soon. She answered on the first ring. "Hey, Bella. Don't tell me you're backing out on us because I seriously just spent thirty minutes picking out the best outfit for you _ever_. I am going to be the Cher to your Tai. Just don't go after the gay ones. No, that was Cher. Any-_way_, swear to God we'll have to beat the boys off with a stick. Oh wait. I didn't mean that like it sounded but that isn't a bad idea either assuming we can find some sort of privacy in a _club _but maybe they'll have places nearby or something."

"I don't want to back out," I finally managed to insert into the stream, "but my dad wants to make sure your mom'll be home."

"That's not a problem. She totally will be home. Not till 4 a.m. when she gets off her shift at the mill_—_that's her second job, besides the bank_—_ but he doesn't have to know that. Just have him call her and she'll cover for us. It's no big deal; she does it all the time for the other kids."

"She… she does?" I couldn't understand how this was even possible.

"Oh yeah, sure, you know she had me when she was eighteen and she says I'm supposed to go out and have all the fun she didn't have, except she got me an IUD so yay! No inconvenient fetus! Sucks to know I was such a buzzkill or whatever but what can I do about it? So she tells all the other parents she's home. She carpools so no one can tell the difference even if they drive by, not that they wouldn't just assume the car was in the garage. We're taking it tonight by the way. I'm designated driver. Whoo."

Jessica's mom was the biggest gossip in town, but she covered for her teenage daughter's friends? I decided I was never going to be able to get it. "Oh. Okay. Can you give me her number?"

"Sure, no problem, I'll text it to you. See you tonight!"

Once I got the number and forwarded it to Charlie with instructions to call, I did my homework for the weekend. If I let my grades slip Charlie would know for sure something was up, and I couldn't stand the thought of my escape routes being blocked by parental concern at this late date. Calculus still sucked. Everything was a struggle, including getting out of bed in the morning. If my life kept going on this way I didn't know what I would do at college… Assuming I went. God, that was ages in the future. How the hell would I make it? I couldn't even think about the possibility. That much pain for that long…

I needed a drink. I needed a _bunch _of drinks. Anything to make the hole in my chest stop hurting. I didn't know how to get them, though. Probably that was another thing Jessica had covered for me. She was being really nice. It made me feel even worse about how I'd basically ignored her for months.

I sat on the couch and stared at nothing for a while after that. After interacting with other people all day, it was too much work to do anything else. While I stared, I thought about Sam and the other two boys. I knew they'd been watching me... but then again he'd said they had a lot of land to protect, so probably they'd just let me leave town and focus on their own territory. That was a good thing. This way, if Victoria caught me, they wouldn't feel obligated to fight on my behalf, and no one but me would get hurt. If she didn't catch me, then I would have an uninterrupted night to forget about how badly I _already _hurt.

Finally, I could get in my truck and drive over to Jessica's. My stomach clenched with nerves as I pulled up and saw the other girls' cars already in front. I turned the key in the ignition and stared at the front door. What on earth would I say to them? I was going to stick out like a pale, depressed thumb.

_Turn around, Bella._

A convulsive shiver ran through my body at the sound of his voice. "I can't. It's too late." I'd actually remembered clothes this time, so I picked up my backpack and purse, but then sat with them in my lap.

_You'll run into trouble. You're a magnet for danger, love._

An involuntary tear trickled from the corner of my eye at the endearment. "You don't want me anymore. This is the only way I can have you."

A knock cut off any reply he might have made. Jerking around, I saw Angela standing next to my window. "Hey Bella," she said with a smile. "It's so cool you're coming with us."

I opened my door and got out, glad for the distraction. "Yeah, it is. I'm kind of excited." The _about hearing my ex-boyfriend's pretend voice _part of that sentence could just remain unspoken for now. "Jessica said she's going to dress me tonight. I guess it's pretty obvious I don't know what to do."

Angela patted my shoulder as we headed up the walkway to the small house. "You looked fine the other night. Jess just loves a project." She twisted the doorknob without knocking, calling, "We're here!"

"In my room!" Jessica shouted.

Angela led the way down the dark hall to the open doorway, where I could hear chattering voices. As soon as she saw me, Jessica sprang up from her bed and grabbed my arm. "Awesome. You're finally here. We barely have enough time to get ready." Angela was already laying out her own clothes on the bed.

"Oh, nice," Lauren said from her perch on a footrest in front of the vanity. "I didn't know you were going to associate with the lessers now that the cover models ditched you, Bella." The girl sitting next to her, a junior whose name I was pretty sure was Alexis, giggled nervously.

"Don't be bitchy," Jessica remonstrated, grabbing my shoulders and turning me back and forth. "Lexi, help Lauren with that twist she wanted. I know _exactly _what to do with you, Bella." She shoved some clothes at me. "Here, put these on."

I shook them out and saw the shortest zipper skirt I'd ever seen plus a top that looked like it was mostly fishnet with a very small amount of solid fabric where my boobs would be. "Uh, Jess—"

"We're going _clubbing,_" she said, like, _duh, _and stared at me expectantly. Glancing around, I saw that Lauren had turned to the mirror while Alexis messed with her hair, and Angela was standing in her underwear pulling a crop top over her head. Okay. Apparently this was status quo. I stripped down and put on the clothes. They fit, but they were so _small._

"I don't know if I can pull this off, Jessica," I told her doubtfully, turning to look at the full-length mirror on the sliding closet doors.

"Sure you can. You just need the right accessories. Check these out." She proffered a pair of fishnet stockings with a rose vine pattern. When I stared and didn't move to take them, she added impatiently, "Do you want the guys to quote-unquote talk to you or not?"

Yes. Yes, I definitely wanted that. If it turned out I really was defective I didn't know what I'd do. Without another word I took the stockings and put them on, nearly falling on my ass a couple times during the process.

"What shoes did you bring?"

"I don't know… I have these black ballet flats…" I gestured at them on the floor.

"Those won't work with this skirt. What size do you wear?" Clearly to Jessica this was serious business. She got me into a pair of black and gray wedges ("so walk _slow, _Bella, if you're so convinced you'll kill yourself") and shoved some rings and bracelets on my hands and wrists. Then it was time for makeup. Jessica plied me for information about Arizona in general and Phoenix in particular while she worked. She wouldn't let me look until she was done, but when she gave me permission to open my eyes, I saw a total stranger in the mirror. I actually had to restrain the urge to touch my face and see if it really was me, this grown-up looking girl with dark smudged liner around mysterious eyes, dark red lips and flushed cheeks. Jessica wound my hair around her brush and hairsprayed it, over and over again, until it fell past my shoulders in sleek waves.

"Perfect," she pronounced. "You look so damn hot I'd do you myself. If I swung that way, which I totally don't unless I've had _way _too much to drink, so if I try to feel you up tonight somebody else better take my keys."

With an effort, I tore my eyes from my reflection to look at the other three girls. Angela was smiling, Alexis looked stunned, and Lauren's lip curled a little in mild amusement. "You really _are_ a miracle worker, Jess," she said. When she raised one hand to poke at her hair, her bangles slid down, revealing the strangest pattern of white marks on the inside of her wrist. I'd never seen anything like them.

"I'm a freaking genius," Jessica agreed. She put on big hoop earrings and shook her ass a little. "What do you think? Would you wanna hit that?" We all burst into giggles, and she grinned, unrepentant. "I know you want me. Okay, let's go. Bella, for God's sake, put your coat on. If one of the parents sees us on our way out of town and you're wearing that, we're screwed. Bring your bag, too. No telling when we'll come home so you might as well have a change of clothes."

We got into the car and took off. Jessica turned the radio on, and I cringed in anticipation of pain. About halfway to Port Angeles, "Shake It Off" started playing.

_I gotta shake it off  
>'Cause the lovin' ain't the same<em>

The awful tightness in my chest began to seize my lungs. I tried to hide it, but Angela noticed and leaned over from her place in the middle of the back seat to whisper, "What's the matter?"

"I can't breathe," I whispered back under cover of the music and the other girls' talking. Her eyes widened, and I confessed, "It's so strange; ever since… Ever since I got lost, I've had this weird thing where I can't breathe and my chest hurts and my heart feels like it's going too fast. The first time it happened I thought I was dying but I guess I'm not? Nobody else seems worried anyway."

"Oh, no, you're having a panic attack," she said calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "I've had them since I was twelve."

I gaped. "Seriously? You really have?"

"Sure." She dug around in her purse and pulled out bottled water and a pillbox. "Here. Take some of my Xanax."

I looked at the little white pills in confusion. "How much?"

Angela shrugged. "I'm only supposed to take one but when my mom uses it she takes way more, so I guess if it's really bad you should too."

_Bella, don't be foolish._

I felt like I was going to pass out. Shaking out two, I swallowed them quickly with a few mouthfuls of water, even though I could barely choke them down. They worked pretty fast. By the time Jessica pulled into the tiny parking lot across from the club's neon signs, I barely even felt nauseous. While we stood in line, I concentrated on staying upright in the unfamiliar shoes, and that got me through the door (the guy checking IDs rolled his eyes at Alexis' but let her in anyway).

Once we were inside, I stood still for a second, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I wasn't sure what I had expected, but it hadn't been what basically looked like a restaurant with a big open area in the middle. The music was so _loud_. At least that meant I couldn't understand the words.

"I need a drink," Lauren announced in bored tones. She flicked her corn silk hair over her shoulder and raised a beckoning eyebrow at a boy who was checking her out from the bar. He straightened with a grin and headed over. I watched in disbelieving envy as she gave him a slow smile and said, "That took way too long. I think I waited sixty whole seconds."

"You're right, I should've seen you coming," he agreed. "Can I get you something?"

Lauren smirked at us and said, "Sure," to him before he led her away.

"She's so awful," Jessica said with a giggle. "He's going to be sure she'll marry him by the end of the night. Oh well." She grabbed my hand and led me toward a table. "I know you're scared so you can sit here with Lexi. She's just a baby."

"I'm only nine months younger than you!" Alexis complained, but she sat down quickly next to me and almost squished against my side.

"In dog years I'm like nearly five years older." Jessica laughed and seized Angela's hand. "Let's go dance!"

Angela trotted off in her wake with a little wave in our direction. Contrary to Jessica's assumption, I wasn't scared at all—Xanax was _awesome_—so I looked around at the people laughing, dancing and talking all around us. I wanted to be having fun like they were but I didn't know how.

"Hey," said a deep voice. With a start, I turned to see a tall boy with dark hair and eyes smiling down at me. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Dumbfounded, I shook my head no. Wow. Was it really that easy?

"I saw you come in." Apparently so. "My name's Josh."

"I'm Bella." I found myself returning his friendly smile without much effort. "It's nice to meet you," I added conscientiously.

"You too. Are you from Port Angeles?"

Josh was a nice guy, it turned out, a college student home early from an independent study semester at U-Dub and bored out of his mind during the extended Christmas holiday. He kept the conversation flowing and bought me drinks without asking my age, and by the time he asked me to dance I was drunk enough to agree, though I warned him, "I might break your toes. Or your face. I'm talented like that." He just chuckled and pulled me to the dance floor. I couldn't stay upright very well, but it turned out all right because when I almost lost my balance and squealed with fright, he grabbed me and held me upright against him.

Oh wow. That felt… really good. I wrapped my arms around his neck—it wasn't as much of a stretch as it would have been without the shoes—and glanced up at him from beneath my lashes. Maybe I wasn't broken. Maybe it was just that I didn't work with Mike Newton. Being pressed to Josh like this was provoking a reassuring response, and he was staring at my mouth, and kissing him struck me as an _excellent_ idea right about now, so I stretched up and he leaned down and then I was kissing a boy who had a heartbeat for the second time. I could feel it speed up against my chest as his hands moved across my back.

In the recesses of my mind, I heard the voice say, _you don't know this man. You don't know anything about him._

_Good, _I thought back, and parted my lips to let his tongue in. Another first. This one felt even better. I felt rather than heard the noise he made in response, and it produced a rush of arousal, pooling in my stomach and between my legs. _Yes. _Definitely not broken. I laughed with relief against Josh's mouth.

He pulled back, looking at me quizzically. "Everything okay?"

"_So _okay." Flushed with success and alcohol, I slid one hand down to grasp his. "You just feel really good, is all." He _did _feel good. I loved this. I wanted more. Turning my head, I scanned the building, looking for anything approximating privacy. Past the restrooms, down the short hallway, was an exit sign. Maybe… "Want to come with me?" I started careening toward the door.

"Where are we going?" he asked with a grin, but he didn't resist as I pulled him along.

"I just need to—" I couldn't wait till we got outside; I turned and pushed him back against the wall. He inhaled sharply and slid his hands down to my ass, pulling me up against him.

_You're risking so much, _the voice warned me.

No amount of booze could make me confident enough not to ask, "Is this okay?"

Josh lowered his mouth to my neck and started nipping and sucking on the tender skin. Oh God, oh God… I'd never had _anyone's _mouth there, and it felt so damn good I thought I might melt into a puddle. "Hell, yes," he answered. "Shit, Bella—" as I licked his ear, "you're so fucking hot."

Nobody had ever called me hot before. It made me want to do him right there in the hallway. As I thought about it, a group of girls headed to the restroom jostled past us with stares and giggles. Josh pulled back, eyelids heavy and breathing hard. I could feel his erection pressing against me through his jeans and ground myself against it. He cursed again under his breath and lifted my hand, inspecting the back. "You got stamped, right?"

"Yeah." I lifted the other hand to show him.

"C'mon." Now it was his turn to drag me, this time into the dark alley behind the club. Once we were outside, the cold air rushed into my lungs, abruptly clearing my brain a little. I looked up at Josh. Still really cute. I shivered involuntarily. "Are you cold? Come here." He drew me to the brick wall and embraced me again, stroking my hair down my back. "We can go back inside if you want."

"Nuh-uh." Now that I had his arms around me I wasn't _that _cold (though he had nothing on Sam in the arms _or _the heat department, a little voice in the back of my head noted), and I wanted to get that liquid flow of excitement again. It made me feel more happy than drinking, even. I pulled his mouth back down to mine. "I just want you," I whispered in between kisses.

_No you don't, _Edward snarled.

Josh slid his hands down my sides and up again as we kissed, underneath my shirt, and cupped my breasts. Heat flooded straight from his palms to between my thighs. I whimpered and pressed up into his grasp.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said a baby-doll voice behind him. "Are we interrupting a private moment?"

Josh sighed in exasperation, leaning his forehead on mine. "Yes, actually, I—hey, what's the matter?" He stared at me, confused, as I flailed desperately, trying to get free of him.

"You have to let me go, Josh, you have to run!" I finally managed to shove him away and stared in wide-eyed horror at Victoria, who was wearing a new outfit—leather miniskirt, leather vest, immaculate white cleavage exposed by its deep V-neck, and thigh-high boots. Behind her stood a beautiful boy, too beautiful to be real, with shining golden hair and bright, bright red eyes. "Get out of here!"

"What the hell?" Discomposure and a tiny bit of fear flickered across Josh's face. "Do you know these people?"

"Oh, we're old friends," Victoria assured him with a feline grin.

I pushed his shoulder as hard as I could. "_Run! _They're only interested in me; get out of here!"

He shook his head angrily. "I'm not going to—"

And the next thing I knew he was flying in a high arc across the alley, catapulted through the air by the other boy's arm. He landed in a heap next to the dumpster. Sobbing in horror, I strained to see. His chest was still moving.

"I'm going to give you a choice, little one," Victoria purred, walking toward me like a runway model in her high-heeled boots. "You can come with me quietly, so I can have the opportunity to play with you, and I will let your friend live. Or, you can try to struggle and scream. Now, I admit that scenario does have its advantages for me—I detest prey that goes catatonic, it's just not fun—but I want to take my time, really. So if you decide to make a scene, I'm afraid I'll have to kill that sweet boy over there. And while I'm sure Riley would be delighted with the opportunity to feed," the other vampire snarled in response, "I don't think you'll like knowing his death is on _your _head during the remaining hours of your life." She reached out and casually traced one of the lines she'd left on my face, re-opening it with her fingernail. I clenched my teeth against a scream of pain. "Up to you."

Panting with terror, I opened my mouth to agree, but before I could speak I heard a low growl.

"Get away from the girl."

He sounded so furious I almost didn't recognize his voice, but the burst of relief in my chest told me who spoke before my mind did. "Sam!" I gasped.

Victoria's nostrils flared as she snarled and whipped around. "It's two against one, mutt. Are you sure she's worth it?"

Sam's massive form loomed in the alley, fists clenched, the streetlights behind him throwing his face into shadow. He didn't bother answering Victoria's taunt, but launched himself directly at her. I screamed when his fist connected with her face. Victoria laughed and ran up the wall easily as a lizard, flinging herself down on his back and clinging. He dug his hands into her shoulders and hurled her onto the asphalt. Why the hell was he not phasing? He had to phase to beat her, there was no other way.

"Hi there," said a velvet voice beside my ear. For a bizarre instant, I thought _the _voice had chosen this inopportune moment to make its presence known, but then I realized it was the vampire Victoria had called Riley, leaning against the wall with his teeth bared at me. "I can see why she's so interested in you, even if you hadn't killed her friend. You smell—" He ran his nose over my hair like a connoisseur at a wine tasting. "_Delicious._"

I screamed again and took off running for the main road—I knew logically it was hopeless but fright wouldn't allow my body to wait tamely for death. Riley appeared before me almost instantly. "No no no," he murmured, one cold hand on my shoulder holding me still. "We have so much to talk about first."

"Hands _off _her, Riley!" Victoria shouted behind me. I turned just in time to see Sam take advantage of her moment of distraction to grab her hair and wrench while his foot slammed into the small of her back. Cracks appeared in the marble perfection of her neck as she and I shrieked simultaneously. The bruising grip on my shoulder disappeared; Riley soared over my head. A brown wolf, big as a horse, howled and pushed past me in pursuit. It caught Riley by the ankle at the door to the club, ripping his foot off with ease as he hissed and writhed. Spitting out the appendage, the wolf darted to catch a better grip on his pants.

The door swung open and a man stepped out, holding a Zippo lighter to a cigarette. As soon as he saw the scene in the alley, he sputtered a horrified curse and dropped the lighter—right onto Riley's severed foot. Instantly, it burst into flames that shot higher than a gasoline fire, licking past the man into the open door. He retreated, coughing and waving his hands in front of his face. Inside the club, I heard fire alarms and shouting.

Victoria screeched in fury, shooting up to a nearby rooftop and crouching like a monkey, clinging to the building's edge. Riley punched the wolf in the face. It yelped and fell back a little. He had his arms around its torso faster than I could blink, but Sam snagged him by the shoulder and wrenched the vampire off his pack mate.

"Riley!" Victoria called. When I looked up to the rooftop again, he was already beside her, perfectly balanced despite his injury… and then they were gone.

With a sob, I ran to go check on Josh. Behind me, I heard Sam speaking softly to the wolf. "Go to the reservation now and be ready to back up Paul. Run _fast,_ Jared, until you get out of town. We don't need more hunters trying to get a look at us. I'll be back as quickly as I can but I'm not leaving Bella exposed again. That was a stupid move on my part." The wolf whined what sounded like a query. In seeming response, Sam said, "I'll be fine. I think they're gone for tonight." I ran my hands over Josh's head, checking for injury. Miraculously, he seemed to be okay, just unconscious.

"Bella." I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sam walking toward me. Over the wail of approaching sirens, he asked, "How is he?"

"I think he's just passed out." Relief made tears pool in my eyes. I stood straight again. "Sam…"

He stepped back, away, before I could lean against him like I wanted. I swallowed the sharp stab of rejection as he said, "We need to get you out of here."

"Oh my God! My friends—they'll be freaking out!"

"Come on. Let's go see if we can find them and let the paramedics know about this guy."

Across the street in the parking lot, Jessica, Lauren, Angela and Alexis stood huddled together in a frightened-looking group. Jessica shouted my name and ran over the instant she saw Sam and me. "Oh my God, oh my God, Bella, I was so damn scared you were trapped in there, the whole club was on fire and I just grabbed your purse and _left _and then we were all like, 'where is she' and I was trying to figure out how to tell your dad and are you okay? Are you all right? Holy shit, what happened to your face?" She looked behind me. "Who the hell is this? Hey, didn't I see you at Lauren's?"

For the first time, I recognized what a strange picture Sam made, shirtless, in cutoffs and barefoot, knuckles covered in blood from cuts already healed beneath the evidence of injury. As Jessica's eyes sharpened in appreciation, I noticed something else: Sam was _built._ Thick-muscled shoulders, massive arms, eight-pack abs... How could I not have reacted to it before?

"Jess, I'm so so sorry, but I have to go." Improvising wildly, I continued while we walked toward her car, "The local cops all know Charlie and if they start checking IDs and taking statements I am so screwed. Sam's going to take me back to his place."

"I'm going to go talk to the paramedics first," he said.

"Okay," I agreed. The other girls gathered around me. Even Lauren looked pale with concern. "I'm all right. I'm all right," I said, speaking over their babbled queries. "Hey, Jess, can I get my stuff from the trunk?" The terror that Victoria would return and they would be collateral damage overwhelmed me.

She popped the trunk so I could retrieve my backpack. As I shrugged the straps over my shoulders, she handed me my purse and asked with a concerned look, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Bella? Are you ready to go?" Sam asked next to my elbow.

I nodded at him, and then turned to the girls. "I'll be fine. I'm really sorry I have to ditch you this way. I'll give your clothes back as soon as I get a chance to wash them, I promise, Jess."

"It's not a problem," she assured me. "Just go ahead and go before you get us all busted." She said it with a giggle, but Lauren rolled her eyes.

I walked away with Sam by my side. He waited until we turned the corner before scooping me up and running so fast the buildings blurred and the streetlights streaked like comets, taking us out of town. I looped my arms around his neck and squeezed my eyes shut. Even the speed and the jarring couldn't fight against alcohol, Xanax, and adrenaline letdown. Once again, I fell asleep in his arms.


	7. Making Confession

**A/N: The fic's completely written except the epilogue now, so I'll be posting more frequently. BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart rock my teensy world with their mad beta and prereading skills.**** The only time they're hotter is when they write their own stories. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song that provided background for this chapter is "Brown Eyes" by Rachael Yamagata.**

###

This time, I woke up when Sam set me down on his bed. For the briefest fraction of an instant, I thought he was Edward and clung, digging my fingers into his arm, before I felt the heat and realized the skin gave way beneath my grip. The stab of grief the knowledge produced didn't hurt quite as badly as usual. I let go and sat up, pulling my knees up to my chest and leaning my forehead on them.

Sam sat next to me, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Are you all right?"

I took some deep breaths and thought about it. _Was _I all right? "I might throw up. But I don't think so." I didn't feel sick, I just felt really dizzy and tired. "What about you?"

"I'm fine."

I carefully lifted my head and looked at him. The shadows under his eyes were darker than ever. Every line of his body broadcasted weariness. "Liar." I reached for his hand, resting on the mattress between us, meaning to look at his knuckles. He jerked back before I even got close. I gave him an exasperated look. "Seriously? You can't think you're going to accidentally hurt me right now."

He didn't answer, just rose from the bed and backed off, trying to make the movement casual. It didn't work. "I should check on Jared and Paul."

I got up, too, barely managing to keep my balance when I forgot about the shoes. Sitting down again, I quickly drew them off my feet. "Okay. Um… Are you going to leave?"

His jaw tightened. "You'd be safer if I were outside."

I stared at him in disbelief. He'd never been _this _paranoid before. What had changed? "I'd never be safer without you, Sam. Did the paramedics say anything about Josh? The guy in the alley?"

"Just a concussion and some bad bruising. Nothing broken."

Now that I'd noticed his body, I couldn't _stop_ noticing. My hands clenched and unclenched spasmodically with the effort to restrain myself from reaching for him. His shirtless stomach looked a little gaunt, though. "When was the last time you ate?"

He went still. After a long pause, he replied, "This morning."

"That's ridiculous." The more we talked, the more I was able to think past the spinning. The mind-to-mouth controls were still broken, however. "You can't… you can't fight off vampires on an empty stomach."

He laughed, a quick exhale of breath, before snapping his mouth shut. Another pause. "I think I proved you wrong about that tonight."

"Yeah, about that…" I rose and clutched the footboard for balance. "Why the hell were you not phased? Fast healing or not…" A wave of dizziness washed over me. I hung my head, swallowing hard. When I could continue, "You couldn't have beat her. Not in human form."

Sam watched me. I got the impression he was ready to jump to my aid if it seemed I would fall. It was funny; he didn't seem to fear touching me if he was actively helping me, but the instant it became non-essential he avoided me as if I were poison. There had to be a _purpose _for the touching. He had to be in control of the action. I folded my lips inward as a sudden thought occurred to me. I didn't remember much, but I remembered the way he'd traced the gashes on my face when he was delirious after Victoria's attack. Emily… he missed her and she didn't want him. _I'm dangerous, Bella. I've done terrible things to people who got too close at the wrong time._

"You were worried about me, weren't you?" I asked him softly. "You were afraid you would hurt me accidentally."

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. "It—wouldn't have been wise—"

"For you to die, Sam. It wouldn't have been wise for you to _die. _ Oh my God." The dizziness overwhelmed me, but I thought it was more emotional than alcohol-fueled. I buckled and fell to one knee. Instantly, he was down there in front of me, one hand hovering above my arm. "You—I can't believe you risked yourself like that. I can't believe you risked yourself like that for _me._ Don't you know I'm not worth it?"

"If you'd start believing you were worth it, maybe I wouldn't have to risk myself as often."

Again, the completely even tone with the strong emotion beneath it. I wished _so much _I could read him better. "You should believe you're worth more, too. Worth enough not to put yourself in danger for an idiot. You should have phased tonight. To hell with the consequences."

He got up and paced, one quick circle around the room, before spinning to face me. "You have no idea what those consequences are. Don't say that."

"I know what the consequences are if you get hurt! Don't forget, I was in those woods when you were sliced and diced. And I know better than _anybody _the consequences if _you_ die. You're the one who told me yourself what happens to everybody on the rez, especially Paul and Jared, if you're taken out of the picture." I rose to my feet again. "What happens if I die? My dad is sad. My mom, maybe. That's it. Nobody's going to be put in danger, nobody's going to be left defenseless; the only thing that'll happen is that Victoria'll move on finally and you won't have to go nearly as far to protect the rez. You're the general. I'm the civilian who's too dumb to duck when the bullets start flying." I couldn't think of any better way to put it, so I sat down heavily on the bed, shaking my head at him despite the way it made my brain slosh around in my skull.

Sam gazed at me in silence for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was so level he could have been giving directions to the post office. "I would be sad if you died. I don't think you're dumb, or not worth it. If you were dead, it wouldn't just matter to your dad and your mom. It would matter to me."

My face flushed, and tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. I stared at the faded flowers on his bedspread and whispered, "Oh." After a second, it occurred to me to ask, "Because it would mean you had failed?"

"No. Because it would mean you weren't here anymore."

The emotional impact of the words made my body ache with mingled grief and… something else. Something I was too messed up to want to put a name to, yet. "I don't like being here." I spoke the words as I realized them. "But I like being with you. You know what it's like to live like this. Nobody else I know does." I heard the question in his silence, this time, and explained, "I mean, live without a heart. Everybody else seems like they can just… move on when somebody leaves. But I can't. It feels like I'm falling into pieces that I have to try so hard just to hold together."

"Is that what you were doing tonight?" He came a little closer, but still gave me three good feet of distance. "Holding yourself together?"

I nodded. My self-control still wasn't back enough for me to stop myself from elaborating. "My heart… it's like there's this huge hole where it used to be, and half the time I don't have any lungs, either, I just can't breathe, but when I drink enough, I can eat, which I kind of miss, and I was so scared that I wasn't… normal anymore, with boys, but he was so nice and he felt good, better than drinking, but I should've known better. I never should have gone in that alley with him. He nearly died because I was trying to use him. And you could have died, and Jared." The sickening weight of responsibility settled in on my shoulders, forcing them into a slump.

Sam edged closer. I could have touched him… but I knew if I tried, he'd be gone before I completed the movement. "If you drink enough, you can eat?"

Trust him to latch onto that. "Yeah."

"Do you think you could now?"

I glanced up in surprise. "I don't know." My stomach growled as if on cue, and I laughed. "Probably."

"After you—I have food. Some. But I really do have to check on Jared and Paul, make sure the redhead hasn't crossed the boundary, and talk to Harry, so if you can wait, I can show you."

I smiled at him. He smiled back, just a little. Corresponding warmth spread through my chest, almost as if he held me to his own again. "Is it okay if I cook? I really like to, and I bet you're starving. This way you wouldn't have to wait so long."

He swallowed again, and for a second everything in him seemed to lean toward me and me toward him, even though neither of us moved a muscle. "If you like to. You can use anything you find."

I waited for the voice to protest, but he remained silent. He never spoke around Sam. I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. "Okay. I'll see you later."

His words drifted back to me as he walked away. "Take care of that cut on your face, Bella."

I had forgotten about it. The line gave a furious throb as soon as I remembered, though. I washed my face, trying not to gag at the smell (drying it took some doing—I finally found an old washcloth in the very back of the under-sink cabinet and used that. Then I pulled my hair back with a ponytail holder I found in my purse. After that, it was time to start going through the refrigerator. True to his word, he obviously had gone shopping since my last visit. There still wasn't much, but everything was well within its expiration date. I found a cheap tube of hamburger on one shelf, and some store-brand angel hair and pasta sauce in the cabinets. The frying pan I'd used last time still sat in the same place on the stove. I rinsed it out and then put the meat on to fry. After some serious searching, I found some ancient salt that mostly stuck in a clump and a pepper canister with maybe a quarter of a teaspoon left. I dumped that into the pan with the meat and then shook the salt in its container until some of it loosened enough to be added as well.

Clearly the man never stayed here long enough to do anything other than sleep. I'd noticed that the bed was made, and the sheets and bedspread had been clean the last time I slept in them. If he patrolled at all hours, no wonder he was so exhausted all the time. Probably just washing his bedclothes took up all of his free time for the week or something. In between stirring the meat, I scrubbed the counter again, then the table, and then, on closer look, the chairs. As I scoured the cheap metal legs, I realized two things: one, it felt really nice to be moving again, and two, I hadn't done this in ages in my own home. I wondered if Charlie had. He was like me, though; if he was worried about something he didn't notice what state the house was in.

It took me a while to find a can opener. The one I discovered was the flat camping kind, but that was okay to open the sauce and add it to the meat. After some more rummaging I found a pot so I could put water on to boil.

By this point I was exhausted and close to falling down, though a lot of my buzz had worn off so at least I wasn't dizzy anymore. I dragged one of the chairs over to the kitchen so I wouldn't have to stand while I supervised the spaghetti sauce.

When Sam came in, I was carefully pouring boiling water down the drain over two plates because I hadn't been able to find a colander. "Is there any sign of her?" I asked.

"Nothing. She seems to like to strike fast, then retreat and regroup. She doesn't react quickly when we interfere, though, so that's an advantage to us."

I returned the pot to the stove and retrieved the plates, then dried them. "How hungry are you?"

He didn't answer—I was beginning to understand that was his reaction to feelings he was trying to process—so I looked at him. He was looking at me, not the food. For the first time, I remembered the tiny clothes I wore and fidgeted self-consciously. When I tugged a little at the hem of Jessica's shirt, it seemed to break the spell. Sam cleared his throat. "I'm pretty hungry."

I loaded up one plate as much as I dared and handed it to him, along with a fork. Once I had my own, I joined him at the table. He waited for me to sit before digging in. I watched him eat out of the corner of my eye and took small bites of my own food. To my surprise, I could still swallow, in spite of my clear head. He finished his before I worked my way through even half of mine, though.

"Do you want more?" I asked. "Here, let me get it."

"No, I will. You eat."

I watched him as he forked more food onto his plate and sat down again. "You know," I pointed out, "you already saved my life three times, followed me all the way to Port Angeles on foot—or paw, whatever—and then carried me all the way _back _here, to your house, in human form, which had to have been way harder. And you would have let me sleep in your bed. Again. I could get you some pasta."

Sam shrugged. He swallowed and then said, "You cooked."

I laughed. "And that evens out the odds?"

A flash of emotion crossed the normally impassive features. On them, I read the answer: _Yes. _Out loud, though: "We're not at odds. Helping isn't a competition."

"If it was, you'd win."

"No. You saved my life. If it weren't for that, I couldn't have done any of the other things. When you helped me, you saved yourself." He took another bite. "Even if you didn't want to." Another bite. "Even if you _still _don't want to."

I ate some more, thinking about that. "I don't want to die all the time anymore."

That got his attention. "When don't you?"

"When I'm drunk. When I was… in that alley, before Victoria got there." I picked at the two remaining strands of pasta, spreading them apart with the tines of my fork. "When I'm with you." That was too much confession. I rose and grabbed both our plates, then took them to the sink to wash them and one of the pots. There was no container for the sauce, so I put the lid on that pot and just stuck the whole thing in the fridge.

He took the towel from me to help me dry the plates. "Why when you're with me?"

Again, the words just flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Because you know exactly what I'm going through and you always tell me the truth."

Sam didn't look convinced. "Maybe it's because you know you're not safe around me. You used to be with a vampire. Maybe you're just so used to being in danger all the time that you feel as if it's normal."

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "No. No, that's not it. I'm safe with you."

He jerked his chin up and walked back to his chair at the table, sitting heavily. "You're not. You're foolish if you think otherwise."

I followed, taking my own seat. "I know I'm safe because…" I cut myself off. I wasn't so far gone anymore that I could tell him, _I know you're safe because the voice in my head doesn't tell me to run away from you. _"I know when I'm in danger. When I'm not keeping myself safe. That's _why _I do the other stuff. You're right about that. But I don't feel that way when I'm with you. I just feel like I don't have to pretend anymore."

Sam looked away from me. I felt the loss of eye contact like a smack. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You hurt her, didn't you?" I blurted. "Emily."

The question garnered a stronger response than I had ever seen from Sam Uley. He flinched away as though I had hit him, and then pressed his fists to his temples, cringing back with eyes squeezed shut. Horrified, I started to apologize, but he cut me off. "Yes. Yes, I hurt her." We sat through a really awful minute of silence, and then he gasped out as if the words pained his throat, "You should know, I nearly killed her. She's scarred for life."

Once again, I remembered him touching the wounds on my cheek. I made my voice as soft as I could. "I bet it was an accident."

He curled up, elbows to stomach, hands still against his face, trying to block me out. "It was. I didn't mean to—it still happened. I'm Alpha and I should have stopped. I should have been in more control, I should have—fucking _imprinting._"

The word set off a dim bell of remembrance—something from science classes—but I couldn't trace it. "What's that?"

He took some deep breaths, shoulders heaving. When he started talking again, his voice was steady, but he kept his eyes closed. "It's something that happens very rarely to werewolves. It's why Jared and Kim are together. We see—one person, someone we're meant to be with, a woman who's supposed to be our mate. And all of a sudden your whole world is all about her. Everything you think is in relation to her, even stupid, minor things. I would see water and wonder if Emily was thirsty. I would hear people fighting and worry it would disturb her. I would see something on the news about rising fuel prices and start planning who she could carpool with on her next trip down here from the Makah rez. I could feel her feelings, like they were my own. I couldn't _not _think about her, but I didn't care because I loved her. I loved her _so fucking much, _even though before I phased for the first time, she was just my girlfriend's cousin. Ex-girlfriend's cousin, after the phase, because Leah and I broke up. I couldn't explain to her what was going on. It's against the rules. So she dumped me and bitched to Emily about it. I don't blame her."

He opened his eyes, interlaced his fingers and laid them against the back of his head, staring down at the floor between his knees. "But Emily came down to visit and… that was it. I saw her and I couldn't stop following her around. Leah was furious. She thought I had been dating her to get close to Emily. Emily was furious because I was jerking Leah around, from her point of view. Jared phased during that time, and Paul did too, but I couldn't help them as much as I should have because I was always trying to get Emily to accept me, accept the imprint, accept that we were _supposed_ to be together. Jared imprinted on Kim, then, so Paul was odd man out, and he didn't like that."

He closed his eyes again, speaking faster, like he wanted to just get it over with as quickly as possible. "One day, I was talking to her, and she'd actually stopped what she was doing to talk back, instead of heading out of the house and slamming the door. She was still angry but she was listening. I was trying to explain what was going on, why I couldn't leave her alone, and then Jared and Paul started to get upset about something. When we first phase, it's triggered by anger. But it's not normal anger, it's really strong and hard to handle because it's from the wolf. And the more you phase, the more often you get angry. It's a catch twenty-two.

"So they're arguing, and I'm standing there in Leah's family's house. Everybody else had gone out because Emily had just dropped in without calling first so they didn't know she was there. I can see Paul and Jared through the window; they're getting more and more upset, and it's broad daylight so I'm scared that they'll phase in front of everyone, and then they _do _phase. Right there on the road, although at least they had the sense to start running for the woods behind the house. Because I'm Alpha, I know what they're thinking and what they're fighting about. I don't hear it, like words, the way I do when I'm phased, but I just _know. _They were fighting over whether or not they should listen to me. Paul said he didn't have to. Jared said he did. So they're both furious, and Emily's furious too, and it's all just… _hitting _me, over and over again, and then she says, 'I never want to see your face again, Sam Uley; Leah told me all about your family and you're _just like your father_,' and I was so fucking scared and hurt and pissed off and… I lost it. I phased, right there in the Clearwaters' living room."

The _Clearwaters? _As in Harry and Sue? Oh, shit. _Leah._

"And when I did, my front paw just… caught her on its way to the floor. Tore through her face and down her arm…" He moaned a little between his teeth. I didn't think he realized he was rocking back and forth. "She was lying there in pieces and I couldn't even help her. I had to run to protect our secret, and tell old Quil before I took off after Jared and Paul."

I couldn't move, because I knew he would be out the front door before I even got out of my seat. But I wanted to hold him. Seeing him this way made me feel as if I were coming apart along with him. If I weren't witnessing it myself, I wouldn't have believed he could be so fragile.

With apparent difficulty, he stilled. "Later, I visited her in the hospital. I offered to fling myself off the roof. I meant it. But she just shook her head and said, 'I hope you burn in hell, but I'm not going to send you there.' She sent me away, though, and it was almost the same thing. She broke the imprint. It's supposed to be unbreakable but it's also supposed to be whatever she needs, and she needed me gone, so I went. But doing it almost ended me. I wanted to die."

What a terrible thing, so awful it made me feel ill. I gulped again and again, trying to shove down nausea through force of will. I couldn't do it. I had to run for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I was miserably sick. After I flushed, Sam's hand intruded on my field of vision, holding a glass of water. I rinsed and spit, then found the mouthwash from last time and used it, too. Wiping the tears off my face, I looked up at Sam and saw that his face had returned to its usual impassivity.

He took the glass from me, making sure our fingers didn't brush. "Now you know. If you want me to leave, I will."

I would have laughed, except I was too busy trying not to cry. "Sam, I can't believe you. Do you actually expect me to be scared of you now? To kick you out of your own house?" Again I read his answer in his eyes: _yes. _"No. I'm not going to do that. There's nothing about you I should be afraid of."

_Liar, _the voice whispered, and I started. What on earth? He never spoke around Sam; I had just thought that. But then I took in Sam's half-naked form again, the unbelievable strength, the aura of power that exuded from every pore… Sexual awareness, newly reawakened, jolted my belly. Right. _That _might be cause to be wary… or it might be the best way to get what I wanted. After all, the voice had just made itself known again, hadn't it? My gaze dropped to his hands.

_Don't, Bella._

I pictured those hands on my breasts. _Yes, _I thought.

_He could hurt you._

I looked back up at his face, puzzled by the warning. Then I saw the fear there, lurking behind the mask, and remembered how vulnerable he'd allowed himself to be in front of me, and I knew: it wasn't my body he endangered. It was the shattered fragments of my heart.

For a second, I wavered. That was a far greater risk.

He sighed. "Did you even hear a word I said?"

My chin firmed and I stepped forward, taking the glass from him again and setting it on the edge of the sink. "Yeah, I heard you. I heard everything. You told me that you were a teenager, like me, who all of a sudden found out that he turned into a wild animal, but that wasn't enough, because the reason he turned into a wild animal was because he was supposed to fight evil vampires." As I spoke, I kept moving toward him. He backed away. "But he couldn't tell anyone but a bunch of old men... oh, and a teenage girl. And then all of a sudden he wasn't even in control of his mind anymore, because he couldn't stop thinking about _another _girl, one he barely knew. But that wasn't enough. He wasn't in control of his feelings anymore, either, because he was supposed to help two _other, _younger teenage boys do the same thing he did. There was no one to tell him how to do the right thing, no one to help him figure out how to get a grip on all this stuff, and then one day it was too much and he made a mistake."

He stopped abruptly; his heel hit the wall opposite the bathroom door. "It wasn't just a mistake," he choked out.

"You didn't mean to hurt her." I kept coming closer, and he almost imperceptibly flattened himself against the wall. "_Everything_ about you is under control now. You would never lose it again like that."

Deliberately, I reached for his hand. Sam kept his gaze on my face. When I got close enough to feel the unreal heat emanating from his body, he jerked to the side, just the smallest, involuntary movement, before he stilled again.

"It's all right." I kept my tone soothing, the way I would with a nervous animal. "It's okay."

"Bella, don't," he whispered, begging me.

"It's going to be fine." Maybe not the palm. That might be too sensitive. I redirected my motion toward the back of his hand. His other hand, the one I wasn't trying to reach, twitched up as if he wanted to grab my own to stop it, but of course he was too afraid to do it. "Nobody's upset. Nobody's angry. Well, maybe Paul." He breathed out a gust of half-hysterical laughter, and I smiled up at him. "But nobody else. It's all right, Sam. Let me do this." If nothing else, I had to help him overcome this illogical fear so that he never put himself in danger the way he had tonight again.

Still moving at a glacial pace, I brushed my fingertips over his wrist bones, across the sparse scattering of dark hair between them, and back. He made a miserable sound suspiciously close to a moan. "You're not going to hurt me, Sam." I moved fractionally forward again, sliding my hand up his arm—_nice, _the back of my mind noted at the feel of his muscles under my palm—to his shoulder. His head fell back against the wall. "No, it's all right. See? I know it's hard to think straight when you're scared." Tell me about it. I heard my vampire ex-boyfriend's voice in my head when that happened, which was probably the opposite of straight thinking. I leaned forward until the front of my body brushed his. That was undoubtedly stupid, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

His voice trembled. "You're insane. You're absolutely crazy."

"Probably." I tilted my face up and rested my chin on his chest, feeling it rise and fall far too rapidly. "But I'm right about this."

"Why are you doing this?" He sounded as if he were pleading.

That was easy. "You need to know that you're not a danger to me. You're the one who saves me." _You're a hero _flirted on the tip of my tongue, but I bit down on the words. Too much, no matter how true they were.

He finally stopped staring over me and looked into my face again. We gazed at each other for a long moment, our chests and stomachs pressed together. He was shaking from head to toe.

"Promise me you'll never try to take her on as a human again, Sam."

He shook his head helplessly. "I can't promise that. If it puts you in danger—"

"It won't. Not ever." His eyes were really pretty. Light brown, surrounded by those beautifully long lashes I'd noticed on the night we met. A sudden fierce wish assailed me, that he had never met Emily, that he had never had his life ruined by phasing, that he could have been saved from all the things out of his control. I slid my other arm around his waist and rested my cheek against his heartbeat. The feel of its pounding was still such a novelty.

The shivering faded gradually, and his breathing calmed. As the fight went out of him, I found myself exhausted. A yawn threatened to crack my jaw in two.

"You're tired. You should go get in bed."

I stepped back a little. "And where are you going to sleep?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't going to."

That made me frown in disapproval. "How long have you been awake?"

His brow furrowed in thought. "Since… "

I waited. He couldn't come up with an answer, though. "I think what you mean is 'way too long.'"

He laughed a little. "Always."

"Okay. _You _should go get in bed." I stepped farther away, indicating the bedroom with an outstretched arm. "I'll sleep on the couch."

It was his turn to frown. "That couch is only good for hiding the biggest hole in the rug."

"It's probably better than the floor."

"I'm not so sure. Take the bed."

"No." He looked startled at my flat answer. It made me want to laugh, but I kept my tone stern. "You can't order _me_, Sam. I'm not a member of your Pack."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep if you're out there," he finally admitted.

"Well, I'd sleep better…" My bravery chose that inconvenient moment to run out, and I mumbled, "If you were in the bedroom, with me." I glanced up to see him gone completely still again. "I don't mean—just to sleep, not to do… anything—it's just…" I wrung my hands and stared down at my entwined fingers. "I can't sleep because I'm always sure she's going to climb in the window, and I always have bad dreams." He still didn't answer. Growing embarrassed, I said, "Never mind. Sorry. I know you'd hear her coming a mile away."

"And smell her," he added. "I can sleep in there with you."

I filed the information about smelling away for later reflection. "You… you will?"

"Yes. If you'll just give me a pillow and one of the blankets, I'll take the floor."

I rolled my eyes but acquiesced. "Fine."

He got ready for bed, and then left the bathroom to me. Now that I wasn't sick, I looked around suspiciously, worried about the state of things when everything else in the house was obviously neglected besides the bed, but it was clean enough, just like last time. I washed my face again, rolled off the fishnet stockings and then, steeling myself, walked to the bedroom. Sam already lay on the floor on his back, arms crossed under his head and pillow. He'd spread the blanket beneath him.

A sudden, painful memory slammed into me: Edward, sitting on the rocking chair, watching me as I slept. I crossed my arms over my chest to restrain the hurt and got into the bed, switching off the lamp. "Good night, Sam. Thank you. For saving my life. And letting me stay here with you."

He was quiet for so long I thought he'd fallen asleep, but at last the deep voice rumbled up from beside the bed. "I'm glad I could."

I stared out the tiny window at the nearly-full moon, peeking from behind dark clouds, for what felt like a really long time. Sam's breathing grew slow and even almost immediately, but I couldn't sleep. Finally, I grabbed my pillow and slid down on the floor beside him, curling up with my back against his side. The arm closest to me moved to wrap around my body, but he didn't stir otherwise. On _some _level, he was comfortable enough with me to sleep even if I touched him. Knowing that gave me some satisfaction.

I rested my head on his shoulder and drifted off.


	8. Walking Lines

**A/N: Told you the schedule would pick up. :-) Big love as ever to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart for holding my hand and beta'ing my fic. Any errors are my doing, of course. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I listened to "Still Here" by Kristian Valen a lot while I wrote this chapter.**

**# # #**

When I woke up, I wasn't alone for the first time since I'd gotten lost in the woods. The arm surrounding me blazed with supernatural heat. It cradled my head rather than remaining impervious to its weight, unlike the only other person to hold me like this. My eyelids lifted unwillingly.

I wanted to stay like this forever. Not even the hard floor beneath me, or the hangover punishing my entire body, or the rhythmic throb on my cheek where Victoria had reopened my scar, could ruin the limp-limbed relaxation resulting from a night spent at Sam's side.

I knew he must still be asleep. He would have dashed for the door the moment he found me curled up against him. I reached to drift my fingertips over the bicep pressed to my shoulder. That same electric buzz of awareness shivered through my belly again. Even sobriety's return couldn't make _that _go away. It felt so good to have another person next to me, especially one who could keep me safe from the bizarre dangers that threatened my life. Especially Sam.

We were both going to have to get up. I had no idea what time it was, but the sunlight streaming through the window didn't look like early morning. Surely Paul or Jared would need to be relieved of patrolling duties soon, and Charlie had seemed so suspicious last night that I wouldn't put it past him to bang on Jessica's door once it got late enough.

I smoothed my palm down the length of his arm to his hand. If only he could feel as safe as I did. If only having me close by wasn't scary for him. That likely wouldn't change anytime soon.

I could feel the exact moment he woke up—just as I reached his elbow, his entire body tensed rock-hard. Suddenly I realized I might have crossed a line without meaning to do so. "It's okay," I soothed, watching my hand's journey back up again. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes," he replied, rough-voiced.

I did stop, but asked, "Because you're afraid of what might happen, or because… um, because you don't like it?" Maybe this was a Mike Newton situation, only, this time I was the Mike.

I felt his breathing, quick and shallow against my back_. In-out in-out in-out._ "You're crazy to get this close to me. What do I have to say to convince you? I tore a woman's face apart, Bella. "

He wasn't moving away, though, and he hadn't said he didn't like it. "Accidentally. It was a perfect storm. It could never happen again like that."

Sam laughed without any humor in the sound. "Like _that_." He still didn't try to leave. That made me a little bit happy.

"It's not going to happen, Sam." His breathing picked up its pace even more, and I sighed. "Hey. It's really okay. I slept here all night and you didn't hurt me. You're not going to hurt me."

"All _night?_" He sounded appalled.

I nodded, resisting the urge to pull his arm more tightly against me. "I couldn't sleep until I got down here with you." I struggled with myself, wondering if I should tell him the rest, that I couldn't sleep without him at all, except to dream, but in the end I decided against it.

Sam sat up, carefully lifting me with him. "I don't know what time it is, but I feel way too rested. That's never good."

His hand clenched around my wrist for a fraction of a second before he withdrew entirely. I shivered as his heat receded, allowing the December cold to chill me once more. "Feeling rested is a bad thing now?"

"If I feel rested, it's because the other two wore themselves out. I'm older and I need less sleep."

I nodded, accepting the truth of the statement. "You said there'll be others, soon. Maybe you'll all get more sleep then."

Sam rose to his feet. "I'd rather be exhausted for the rest of my life than have anybody else live through this."

A pang of sadness echoed through me at the words. Even if he found meaning and purpose in his position as Alpha, it still was a hard life. He had to constantly worry about two teenage boys' well-being, the possibility of attack from vampires, and I had _no _idea what he did for money. Plus, lately he'd been looking out for me too. I would do what I could to make that part easier on him—a sharp blade of panic cut through the sadness at the thought (_what will I do to make life worth living?_)—but there was nothing I could do about the other things.

His voice broke through my reverie. "I'm going to go phase and check on Jared and Paul."

I tried to keep my words steady but it didn't really work. "Wait. Are you going to leave?"

Sam hesitated. "We need to figure out how to get you home. I'll come back." He didn't move, though. We stood and looked at each other. Something had shifted between us the night before, and now I felt like I held more power, although I wasn't sure where it applied or how to use it. He seemed uncertain, too, but walked out before I could say anything. I got dressed with the clothes I'd brought in my bag, brushed my teeth and hair, took some Tylenol, and started scrounging for breakfast.

I heard the door open as I turned the eggs out onto a plate. "They're fine," Sam told me before I could ask.

"That's good." I took a miniscule portion for myself—I didn't think I could eat much anyway—and gave the rest to him. I managed to wash down a few bites of food without gagging, but really I was busy thinking.

Once again, I ran down the list of people who knew the truth about Sam: three old men and two teenage boys. No women, no girls… well, there was Jared's girl, but nobody who was likely to even try to touch Sam. How long had it been since he'd allowed himself human contact? If the other two boys were sixteen, then maybe he had been close to that age when he phased the first time? Probably it had been months regardless.

When I rose to wash the dishes, he beat me to the sink and started scrubbing, so I dried, watching him from the corner of my eye as I did so. He was leaning toward me ever so slightly, and suddenly I realized: he _wanted _me to try again. No matter how scared he was, he couldn't help but want to be touched. I liked knowing I could give him that, too; liked knowing that keeping myself safe wasn't the only thing I could do for him. Keeping myself out of harm's way was uncomfortably close to complying with the last request that had been made of me before Ed—_he _left.

I put away the last plate. Just as he started to rock back on his heels, I turned and leaned against the counter to face him. He probably wouldn't respond very well to, _I just want to get my hands on your body because it's beautiful._ This was way harder without the alcohol to get rid of inconvenient things like shyness and inhibitions. "We should… practice. So that you get used to me being in your personal space and aren't afraid of yourself." Wow. I was _so good_ at bullshitting. I should win an award.

Sam inched backward just the slightest bit, and then held his ground. "_You_ should still be afraid of me, Bella."

I didn't bother contradicting that nonsense. "I'm going to touch you again. Okay?"

He looked wretchedly conflicted, but in the end he gave a short, jerky nod of assent.

_Don't do this, Bella. Guard yourself._

_No, _I told him. _If you wanted that, you should have stayed._

Confident. I had to act confident even if I felt completely the opposite. Poor Sam was shaking once more, though he tried to hide it. Doing my best not to fidget, I approached, choosing my target as I went. Not the hand, but maybe his chest? I really, really wanted to touch that again. My body gave a throb of response to the thought. Once I got close enough, though, a new idea struck me. I lifted my hand to the crook of his shoulder. The skin twitched under my fingers, but he didn't move otherwise.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

When I looked at his face, his eyes were shut. "Yes—no—this is—"

"All right. Everything's fine, Sam." I leaned into him, letting my breasts and stomach brush against his torso. He heaved a shuddering sigh, and I moved my hand up just a little. Talk about crossing a line, this was crossing a _major _line, but now that I knew he _wanted _me to do it, things were a little different.

My fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. He made a tiny _mmph _noise and then he stopped breathing, even, and I did too, which was when I noticed I had been breathing without effort since I woke up.

We inhaled simultaneously, and then Sam surprised me by suddenly turning his face into my wrist and nuzzling his cheek against it, like he just couldn't help himself. Something in my chest ached, but it wasn't the usual pain, so I ignored it and ran my fingers through his hair some more.

_You're walking a thin line, Bella, _the voice warned.

_I know. _I did know. The contrast between his massive size and the vulnerability he displayed to me was making the ache in my chest spread to my throat. I might not be able to risk myself in any other way without risking him, but Sam knew exactly what he was getting if I offered myself. No pretensions or unreasonable expectations here. I couldn't save myself, but I had saved Sam. He was living proof that I did something right. Something that mattered, even.

He opened his eyes, and our gazes met. Wordlessly, I reached for his other hand and brought it to my waist. Sam watched my face as his fingers brushed the skin exposed just above my jeans. I smiled encouragingly, but he just looked ready to bolt.

So, I moved back, away, even though everything in me wanted to cling. Too much, too soon. If I pushed him he might not let me come back, and I had to come back.

"How should I get home?" I crossed my arms over my chest. With his absence, the gaping hole returned.

"Do you have to work?"

I started to ask how he knew I had a job, but then I remembered the Pack had been following me around. They probably knew everything about my life by now. "No, not till tomorrow."

He thought. "You could stay here till dark, if you can call your dad and give him some excuse. Then I could take you back."

I shook my head. "No, that's probably not the best idea. I think Charlie knows I was up to something last night."

"Can you ask one of your friends to come get you?"

I almost said _I don't have any friends in Forks _before I remembered that wasn't strictly true. Jessica was my friend now. Hell, even Mike would probably make the drive if I asked nicely enough. "I'll call Jessica and see if she can."

Jessica answered on the first ring. "Oh my God, Bella! Please tell me that hot guy and you had sex, like, _all night long _and also that he has a horny single brother. Or a sister. Or hell, both. Please. I'll break my 'drunk-lesbian only' rule for any relative of that man."

I winced and looked at Sam, whose eyes lit with furtive humor. He could hear every word, I could tell, even from across the room. "Sorry, Jess, we totally didn't do that."

Silence, then, "Oh for Pete's sake. What the hell, Bella? He practically gave me an orgasm just by letting me look at him. Are you okay, by the way? How did you hurt your face again?"

"It was dark in that alley where we were," I evaded. _Close to the facts. _"I have a huge favor to ask."

"What's that?"

"Is there any way you could come get me in La Push? I spent the night at Sam's house and now I don't have a way home."

"He doesn't have a car?"

"No, he…" Damn. How would he have gotten me here without a car if he weren't a werewolf? "Uh, his mom needed it." I sent a helpless shrug in his direction. He shrugged a little too, like, _hey, that could've happened._

"Oh. Major bummer. That's cool. Give me time to dig out the keys and sneak out without waking up my mom. I'll meet you at the entrance to the reservation? Half an hour."

Easy as that. This was… so nice. _She _was so nice. I waited for the usual shame to swamp me, but instead I just felt grateful. "Thanks a ton, Jess. See you in a little bit."

"It's no problem."

I hung up and turned to Sam. "So. Thirty minutes and I'll be out of your hair."

"Just as well. I need to go back out on patrol. Jared's at school and Paul's asleep."

His indifference hurt. I bit my lip and stared at my bare feet to hide it.

"I don't—" When he broke off, I looked back up at him. His eyebrows furrowed a little. "I mean because there's nothing for you to do here. It would be boring, to have to stay here all day so Billy or Harry don't see you and start asking questions. Especially with no one to keep you company."

"I don't really care about having company. Most of the time at home all I end up doing is staring at the wall anyway and trying to breathe."

Sam's frown deepened at the words. "That isn't how you are here."

I fiddled with a button on my shirt so I wouldn't have to meet his gaze. "You're here. This is your house. Sometimes, it's hard… At my dad's house, there are memories, I guess. And _he_ used to spend the night a lot." Sam's fingers clenched into fists convulsively, and I realized how terrible that must sound to him. "We didn't… He stayed in the rocking chair most of the time. He just liked to watch me sleep."

Sam spoke with revulsion. "He watched you _sleep_?"

"Yeah, you know, he liked to hear me talk in my sleep, because he can't…" I had been babbling without really thinking about the words I was saying, but suddenly their meaning, and the memories they invoked, bludgeoned my stomach with sickening grief. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My pulse raced even though that should have been impossible given the whole absentee-heart issue, and my chest seized. I bent double, clawing at my top buttons, trying to loosen them and force my lungs to expand, but they might as well have been gone too.

"Bella." I heard Sam's voice, suddenly right next to me even though I hadn't seen him cross the floor. "Bella, it's all right."

"Can't… breathe…" I gasped. "Hurts so bad."

"It's a panic attack," he said grimly. "Sit down."

I shook my head and took off on a circle around the room. "Have to move. Worse if I sit still."

"Okay. Don't think about breathing. Just count to a hundred and think about that instead of your chest."

I obeyed, pacing back and forth with my arms wrapped tightly around my body, trying not to cry or completely freak out. These were _so scary. _To distract myself, I asked, "How do you… know what… this is?" in between labored panting.

"You remember how I told you breaking the imprint nearly... ended me?" I nodded. "This was one of the least bad symptoms. It lasted the longest, though."

"What were… the other… symptoms?" I was just trying to distract myself, but heard my question too late. "No. Sorry. Don't answer."

Sam stood quiet and still, watching me. "It's all right. I couldn't eat. I'd try, but I'd end up just staring at the food. I was cold. All the time, I was cold. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't sleep. I'd see something and think, _I have to tell Emily about that, _and then it would hurt even worse. I had to stop thinking her name, even. When I did sleep, I had her nightmares. They were all of me, tearing through her face, and then the pain…"

His face twisted. "Stop," I ordered, coming to a halt in front of him. I knew now was the wrong time to reach out, but I got as close as I dared, keeping my arms firmly around myself for his sake as much as mine. "I don't need to be distracted that badly. Don't make yourself go through that again." The tight pain in my lungs grabbed me once more and I resumed walking. "Know what's weird? It sounds a lot like what's been happening to me. Except my nightmares are all of chasing him, and then you save me, and our blood mixes together… They're bizarre."

"Did that really happen?"

"Yeah. I passed out on your shoulder before I could help it, bleeding all over the place, and it was really nasty and gross." I turned as I spoke, and surprised the same gleam of humor in his eyes that had shown up when I spoke to Jessica. "What's funny?"

"Nothing."

I felt well enough now to stop and stand before him once more. "That's not true. C'mon, tell me."

Sam's mouth quirked upward. "Just… it had to have been the worst night of your life. Walking until your feet were bloody, crawling till your knees were too, being attacked by a vampire, saved by a werewolf, trying to hold a shredded stranger together in the rain. And the way you describe it is 'nasty and gross.'"

I saw his point. I couldn't laugh right now, but I felt a smile tugging at my own lips. "It _was_."

"I believe it. It's the understatement of the year, but I believe it." He rubbed the back of his head with one big hand, looking down at me with a full-fledged grin—the first time I'd ever seen him show that much expression. "You're cute."

I felt the unexpected compliment as if he'd kissed me. My face heated and my palms tingled and my heart made its sudden return known with a massive thump.

He looked away before I could decide what to say. "Let's get you to the turnoff."

I followed him on the walking trail he showed me—taking the main road meant risking somebody seeing me. We got to the main road just as Jessica pulled up onto the shoulder on our side.

Sam handed me my backpack and purse. "Be careful, Bella. We'll be watching you, but don't take unnecessary risks if you can help it."

Again, the sick fear crashed over me like a tidal wave. _What will I do? How can I live without anything to make me feel better? _"Okay."

"Bella."

I lifted my gaze from my backpack straps to meet his. "Yeah?"

"I'll—we'll still be watching your house, too. She won't make it through your window. Don't let that keep you awake."

I tried to smile, but I couldn't. Already, the prospect of leaving him was draining any sort of hope for the immediate future. "Thanks. It won't make much difference on the sleep front, but I still appreciate it."

My words made him frown. "I thought you said you couldn't sleep because you were afraid."

"It's mostly the nightmares." I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'd better go."

"All right." He stepped back to let me pass.

I waited for another moment—for what, I didn't know, but whatever it was didn't happen, so I trudged over to Jessica's car and got in. She barely pulled away from the side of the road before she protested, "Not even a _kiss? _What the hell, Bella?"

My shoulders slumped. Oh. _That _was what I had been waiting for. _Idiot. _He felt sorry for me, that was all. Probably the only reason he let me touch him was because of the novelty factor. "Yeah. We're, um, we're not like that. He's just…" _Just the bravest person I've ever met. _"A friend."

"Just a friend? Are you freaking kidding me? He came and got you from Port Angeles. Shirtless. How does that qualify as _just a friend_?"

"He was… he was worried about me. That's all."

"Bullshit." She shot me a knowing glance. "You like him."

The hole in my chest expanded at the edges. "He's a good guy," I answered shortly. _He's the best guy. _ The thought startled me. I'd always thought there was only one person who could hold the top spot. Then again, thinking of _him _as a "guy" was vaguely ludicrous. To distract her and myself, I changed the subject. "Hey, so what happened after I left?"

"Oh my God! So I was just standing there in the parking lot and the other girls are starting to ask if we should just go home when the _cutest cop _I have ever seen in my _life _comes up to us…"

The story took up most of the half-hour drive to Jessica's house, but as soon as we turned onto her street her mouth snapped shut. We both stared in wide-eyed horror at my truck… or rather, at the person leaning on my truck's driver's side door. Charlie, in full Chief Swan mode, giving us the eye as he waited for us to park.

"Oh shit, Bella," Jessica breathed. "You're so busted."

She was right. There was some faint hope he'd believe I had just gone out with her this morning after waking up safe and sound in her room… but I could see on his face that he wasn't going to be buying any of that. Thank God that at least I'd changed my clothes. "Yeah."

Jessica parked in the garage and I got out. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked.

"No thanks. I'd better just… get it over with."

I ambled to the truck and gave Charlie half a wave. "Hey."

He nodded. "Bella. Why don't you drive home and I'll follow you? Just to make sure you get there all right."

Oh, crap. He was so pissed.


	9. Being Watched

**A/N: Air kisses and smooshy hugs to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart for beta'ing and prereading. The mere fact that I have this many people looking at my nonsense before I post should give you a clue as to the level of neurosis with which they have to deal from me. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song I listened to a lot during the writing of this chapter was "Please Forgive Me" by David Gray. The passage Bella reads in this chapter comes from _Heart of Darkness _by Joseph Conrad.**

**# # #**

Charlie opened the front door for me and stood there till I slipped past him into the house. Once inside, I turned and waited for doom to fall.

Charlie closed and locked the door behind himself, and then surveyed me from head to toe. "I see you hurt your face again."

I'd forgotten. One hand flew up to cover the cut.

"Got a call this morning from a friend of mine in PAPD. He said he took a statement from a guy in the emergency room down there who had been assaulted in an alley behind a club. Said the guy was worried sick about the girl he was with, but he only knew her first name. Bella."

_Oh, Josh._ I couldn't even be mad. He was just trying to look out for me.

"That same nightclub had a fire last night, so my friend looked through statements trying to find somebody named Bella, but instead he found four girls from Forks in the mix. He wondered if maybe this Bella was with them and since he knew everybody knows everybody here, he called me to find out. I guess you can understand my surprise when he listed the girls' names for me." Charlie paused. "I told him I was pretty sure Bella was okay, but I'd call him later after I made certain."

I looked away and sighed against the sickness in my stomach.

"Now, you're eighteen, and it's perfectly legal for you to be there, Bella. I guess there's two things I don't understand about the whole deal. One, why you lied to me, and two, why the hell you weren't there after the fire when everybody else was. Where'd you go? Did the assailant get you too? Is that why your face is messed up again?"

Still staring at the carpet beneath my feet, I nodded slowly. "Yeah. She hurt my face."

"Can you give me a description?"

_Hard as marble, cold as ice, undead for God knows how long. _"No, it was too dark."

"Well, then, did you have the good sense to go to the emergency room with that guy?"

I shook my head. "No. I was… around the corner. The paramedics knew about Josh so after that I ran so the cops wouldn't check my ID. I was afraid this would happen." Beside the fear bloomed an equally strong emotion: hope. Maybe now he would understand how bad things were. Maybe now he would help me, because I had no idea how to help myself besides trailing after Sam.

"Why'd you lie to me?"

Oh. That was going to be the issue. The words came out in a dull monotone. "Because you said you didn't want me with Jess without parental supervision."

"I guess with good reason." Charlie ambled around the room as he spoke. "You wanna tell me what you were up to in that alley?"

I shrugged, a helpless lift of one shoulder. "Just… talking. To Josh."

"Talking? On a December night in a dark alley? Uh-huh."

Tears started dripping from the corners of my eyes. I kept my face down and let them fall straight to the floor, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Were you drinking?"

I shrugged again.

"Fine." I glanced up to see him running his hand through his hair. "I was hoping you were finally starting to come out of that funk you've been in since Edwin left, but it looks like you're not handling it any better, just different. You're not being safe—are you even on birth control?"

Fiery humiliation swept over me. "No."

"I should've made sure to take care of that for you, so that's on me." All of his usual awkward carefulness toward me was gone, concealed behind the mask of the chief of police who needed to deal with business. "We'll take you to the doctor first thing next week. But that's about the only place you'll be going for a while, Bella. You're grounded except from work and school. Give me your cell phone."

"Dad, _no_!" I protested, clutching my purse.

He gave me a stern look, and I wilted. "Bella, I pay for that phone. I know you can go and get another one pre-paid but I'm hoping you'll just do as I say, because believe me, this is for your benefit."

What did it matter? Even if someone called I wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere. I dug through my purse and handed it over. He popped the battery out, putting both pieces in his pocket. "This'll be in the gun safe. I'll be calling Mrs. Newton to get your work schedule for the next couple of weeks. On the nights you're not there, I expect you to be here. I'll be calling the landline every hour and a half. I don't want to hear any sort of baloney from you about 'oh, I fell asleep, that's why I didn't answer.' It's a cordless phone. Take it to bed with you. It's not like you've been sleeping anyway." At my flinch of surprise, he said, "Of course I noticed. I'm not an idiot, I was just trying to give you time to work it out on your own."

"I don't think you're an idiot," I muttered, back to staring at the floor.

"Could've fooled me."

That made me start crying again. I _hated _that he had picked this of all moments to start doing the authoritarian parent shtick, and in this way. I wanted _help, _I didn't want all my freedom taken away, damn it. Although maybe that wasn't really fair. His efforts to get me to eat, in the days after _they _left, flashed through my recollection. Regardless, this was really bad timing. That same panic surged up to swamp me: _how will I cope if I can't drink? If I can't see Sam? If I can't do anything to hear the voice?_

"Hey, Bella." Charlie's voice had gone gentle again. He walked up next to me and carefully put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't cry, honey. I'd be more worried if you weren't doing this stuff, I think. This is typical teenage crap. I guarantee every one of your friends have been grounded too. You're just… being normal for once. It took me a while to catch up, is all."

It was so _not typical _I didn't know what to say in response. _No, Charlie, you're wrong, because I have to do this stuff so I can hear my vampire ex-boyfriend's pretend voice in my head, and I also have to hang out with a werewolf in La Push because he makes my lungs work. _I settled for, "Sure. Sorry. I'm sorry I worried you." I tugged at my purse straps for a moment for something to do with my hands. "Um… How long am I grounded?"

"Let's say two weeks and see how I feel after one," he replied, grim once more. "Go to your room."

My head jerked up and I glared, suddenly furious. "I don't want to go to my room. You can't send me there like a little kid. I'm eighteen. You said it yourself."

"I know what I said but you're exhausted. Try sleeping during the day. Maybe it'll work out for you better."

All the fight went out of me. I slumped. "Fine. I'm going." Trudging up the stairs, I closed the door behind me and locked it, then threw myself face-down on the bed and kept crying until my head hurt and my eyes burned.

**( * * * )**

The next week proceeded at a snail's pace. None of the other girls had gotten caught, so they gave me lots of sympathy. Well, everyone except Lauren. It didn't help much. I was back to three locations: school, work, and home, barring an excruciatingly embarrassing visit to the gynecologist. I dutifully completed my homework every night and displayed the results to Charlie. At Newton's, Mike tried to keep up his usual flow of conversation, and I tried to pay attention, but by Wednesday he was mostly talking to himself.

Robbed of any hope of an outlet for my misery, I tried to return to the numbness that had carried me through the first weeks. It didn't work. For better or worse, I was awake now, and not likely to go back into my protective distance from the world around me. Everything hurt so much. I threw up every day.

On Thursday, I had to come home and stay all night by myself while Charlie worked. He had grudgingly agreed to every-two-hour calls after eleven, so I was able to fall asleep for a little bit before the nightmare hit. This time, though, it was different: chasing Edward, yes, but then he turned _into _Victoria and had me pinned against that alley wall. Sam showed up, and I cried out in relief, until I realized that once again he wasn't phasing, and was doomed to defeat.

I woke up screaming Sam's name and ordering, begging, pleading with him to phase so he could win. The phone rang a few seconds later: Charlie, checking in again. Once I answered and reassured him, I got up and walked around the room until a movement outside caught my eye. Walking to my window, I peered into the darkness.

Below on the ground stood Sam, in wolf form.

My hands flew to the latch. I leaned out the window once it was open and whispered, "I'm okay. Sorry."

He sat down and tilted his head at me, then whined softly.

"It was just a bad dream. About the alley."

His ears pricked up.

"Yeah. You were fighting her. And you still wouldn't phase, dumbass." I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Sorry," I mumbled between my fingers.

He yapped once.

Dropping my hand, I surprised myself by giggling. "Yeah, sure. Laugh at me." He opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out as he doggy-grinned. "I guess since you're out there watching my back, the least I can do is offer some comic relief, huh?" He panted, still grinning. I bit my lip and looked down at the window frame for a second. "Um… do you want to come up? It's pretty cold out… Well, I guess that doesn't matter to you guys so much, does it? You've got a permanent fur coat. Never mind." Sam's tail thumped twice on the grass. I drew my head back in. "I guess I'll, um, see you around. When I'm not grounded. Or something."

As I lifted my arms to pull the window closed, Sam jumped up and ran to the wall. He went up on his hind paws, bracing his front paws on the vinyl siding, and wagged his tail some more. The wolf was so huge; his paws came halfway up to my window. I leaned out again. For the first time since I had last seen him, the constriction in my chest eased. It was easier to admit to him when he looked like this. "I miss you. So much."

His tail stilled. He yapped again, but this time he wasn't smiling. I didn't know how to interpret that, so I told him, "I'm working tomorrow. I'm closing, so I'll be there till eight. Maybe… Probably you're busy, though. Like you're ever _not _busy."

He didn't move, just returned my gaze steadily.

"So… Yeah. Good night." _So stupid. You, like, set the standard for stupidity, Bella. _I slid the window shut and stepped back. After a moment, I saw Sam stalk away from the house and back into the trees. Returning to my bed, I slid beneath the covers and tried not to obsess over everything I had probably just done wrong when talking to him. That didn't turn out so well. I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours and then gave up, heading downstairs. Not willing to risk an accidental exposure to a romantic moment, I turned the TV on to ESPN and fell asleep in front of a SportsCenter rebroadcast. Charlie accidentally woke me a while later, when he came home to find out why I hadn't answered the phone.

"Sorry," he said, low-voiced, when I started upright.

"S'okay." I stretched and yawned. "I'm sorry I forgot the phone."

"It's okay, honey." Charlie offered me a hand as I rose from the lounge chair. "Go ahead and get back in bed. I'll be home for real in a couple of hours."

"Night Dad."

"Bella," he called.

I stopped, one foot on the steps. "Yeah?"

"You've done okay this week. I'm probably just going to un-ground you tomorrow."

The hole in my chest ached and burned. _Like it makes any difference if I still have to keep myself safe for Sam's sake. _"Thanks."

I didn't sleep the rest of the night, too afraid of what would happen if I closed my eyes. When I got up and got ready for school, I looked out the window in spite of myself. No sign of… anybody. Heading downstairs, I poured myself a bowl of dry cereal, stared at it for a while, dumped it back into the box, and only then noticed my cell phone was back on the table, assembled and fully charged. _Yes. _I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until I picked it up eagerly. It felt like I had a missing limb re-attached.

That day at lunch, Jessica said, "Hey, Bella, we're still going to hang out at Lexi's place tonight and then sneak out to Sol Duc Falls. You want to come?"

_Yes. _But I couldn't, for Sam's sake, even if Charlie kept his word. "Sorry, I have to work till eight, plus I think I'm still grounded."

"Bummer. Okay, but if you change your mind or whatever let me know and I'll give you directions out to her place. She said to invite you. It's like so freezing-ass cold there this time of year but at least it's pretty, it's not supposed to rain, and the moon's still mostly full tonight. Maybe we should invite some of the boys, what do you think?"

"Go for it," I encouraged, with the half-smile that seemed to be the most I could muster up these days. "Maybe it'll turn out I can come after all."

"I hope so," she said, with a genuine smile.

My chest hurt so badly I could barely walk. _It's just a panic attack, _I told myself as I went through the motions that would carry me past the rest of the day. _Just a panic attack. You're all right._

I was the opposite of _all right. _I missed Edward. I missed Alice. (Might as well think the names. It couldn't get much worse at this point.) I missed having a place where I belonged and wasn't tolerated or pitied. I missed hope for my future.

I missed Sam.

If I couldn't figure out something to do soon, I would lose the tiny portion of my mind that still functioned.

"Bella," said Mr. Berty during English class, "would you care to read the next paragraph?"

With dull surprise, I glanced down at my open text to see I had been following along the in-class reading without realizing it. "Sure. 'Do you see him? Do you see the story? Do you see anything? It seems I am trying to tell you a dream—making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is the very essence of dreams.'" I paused, staring at the passage. My whole life was a dream, according to that description. _I'd like to wake up, now._

The bell rang before anyone seemed to notice my silence.

I drifted in to work later in the day, still dazed and stuck in my own thoughts. _Why won't you talk to me if I'm not risking myself? _I asked the voice in my head, but he didn't answer. Sam's voice did, though: _You used to be with a vampire. Maybe you're just so used to being in danger all the time that you feel as if it's normal._

Did I have to feel like I might get hurt because when I was with Edward, I was always in danger?

That was ridiculous. He'd decided he wasn't going to kill me just weeks into our relationship. But then when we were in Phoenix… I still remembered the monitor's beep stopping completely when he leaned in to kiss me. That couldn't be normal. At the time, I'd attributed it to the effect of a fairy-tale love on a mortal girl's body. Now, with a little distance, I had to wonder if it was that, or my involuntary reaction to something that should have been threatening.

"Bella." Mike's voice broke into my reverie. "So are you still not going out with Jess tonight?"

_Going out with Jess. _It sounded like the most interesting date Forks would have seen in the past decade. That would be one way to move on. Maybe we should go public. "I don't think so, no. Why?"

"A few of us are going to Port Angeles to see _A Christmas Story _at the dollar theater. Want to go?"

God, anything to get out of the house. I ran over the plotline of the movie quickly. No romance, unless you counted the dad's relationship with the goose, or maybe the little boy's with the leg lamp. "I don't know. Let me ask my dad." No. Crap. I couldn't make Sam, Paul, or Jared go all the way down there. "You know, come to think of it, I haven't done any Christmas decorating of my own at home. Maybe I should get some, you know, tinsel out or something."

He looked disappointed—again, it seemed like I was always disappointing the poor guy—but managed a smile. "Okay. That's cool."

The entrance chime dinged, and Mike walked to the front of the store. I started shelving our new supply of fishing lures on their appropriate racks.

"Hey there," Mike greeted the new customer. "Can I help you find anything? We've got some great Christmas specials going on right now—"

The voice that cut him off made me drop an entire box of Z2 Squids. "I'm actually here to talk to Bella. Is she working tonight?"

"Oh. Sure. She's, uh, right back there."

Frantically trying to scoop the lures back into their box, I froze when I felt a wave of heat roll into my back. "So this is what you call working."

Sam sounded _happy_. Instantly, I felt more connected with the world around me, as if his voice grounded me in reality. I slowly rose and turned to face him. "Well, you know," I replied softly enough that Mike couldn't overhear, "Not all of us can hunt evil vampires."

He smiled a little and inched closer. "That's true. I guess I shouldn't criticize. After all, sorting out fake squid is a tough job."

I snorted, and then bit my lip, looking him over from head to toe. It seemed like every time we were apart, I forgot how _big _he was, as though his personality was so non-threatening that my mind reduced his remembered size to match. "I've never seen you in a shirt. Or shoes," I remarked. Being fully clothed made him seem like a different person, both more normal and more intimidating.

He shrugged. "Rules are rules. If I wanted to see you I had to find something." Squatting, he began scooping the lures into the box.

A tiny thrill shot through me at the words. He wanted to see me. I knelt next to him and started helping. "Then I'm glad you could dig those out of whatever storage you put them in."

The corner of his mouth tugged up a fraction of an inch, and he edged even nearer. "I was worried about you."

He wanted to touch me, or wanted me to touch him, whatever. I could see it in the angle of his body as he leaned. Moving slowly, I laid my hand on his upper arm, sliding it beneath the short sleeve to rest on heated skin. The warmth radiated through my palm and down my arm, unknotting the stress in my shoulders. He sighed. Some of the tension drained out of him as I watched. Knowing I did that for him made me happy. "I'm okay. You knew that."

That corner rose a little higher as we both stood. I was _dying _to kiss it. "Yeah, kind of, but it's hard to remember when I hear you screaming in the middle of the night." He set the box down on the nearby shelf.

I shrugged, stroking his arm a little and stepping into the comforting aura of his body heat. "I'm used to it. You shouldn't worry."

Sam tilted his head. His gaze kept flickering between my eyes and my mouth. "I don't think I can help it," he said absently. "Worrying, I mean. You've got a lot working against you." He leaned even closer until his nose was practically in my hair. Was he _sniffing _me? I wanted to giggle. "The redhead's disappeared, though. I think she might have given up. There hasn't been a sign of her since that night in Port Angeles."

"That's... awesome..." I breathed, trying hard not to pant and mostly failing. He smelled _really _good. Almost of their own accord, the fingers of my free hand reached and hooked through one of his belt loops. "Um..." With an effort, I gathered my thoughts, such as they were. "You won't have to spend all your time watching out for me anymore."

"I like watching you."

This time I did giggle. "That isn't what I said, exactly." I tugged at his belt loop until his front brushed against mine. Looking up, I felt my mouth go dry at the look in his eyes. Would he jump away if I did try to kiss him after all? Maybe if I just stood up on my tiptoes and went for it, he wouldn't stop me. It wouldn't really be payback, not for all the time he'd spent keeping me safe, but at least it would be something I could offer, even if I did get the benefit of kissing him in return.

The door chimed again. Mike went into his spiel. "Hey, there, happy holidays. Can I help you find anything tonight?"

A soft voice with a hint of laughter replied, "I hope so. I'm looking for a pair of fishing gloves for my father."

Sam stiffened from head to toe. My hands dropped to my sides before I realized he was three feet away. Confused, I followed his suddenly worshipful gaze behind me, turning on my heel.

Behind me stood a tall woman, smiling at Mike, with a curvy figure shown off by her demure dress beneath her open coat. She pivoted to follow his pointing finger, and I swallowed a gasp of shock. Half her face was mangled and scarred, as though she had been attacked by a bear. Following the lines, I saw that they extended even from beneath her long sleeve on that side. I looked away before I could stare, but then I saw Sam's face again. He looked like he had just met God in the flesh.

"Emily," he breathed, adoration in three-syllable form, and pain flared in my chest.

I whipped my gaze back to the girl. She had gone pale, making the deep purple-pink of the scars stand out even more against her light brown skin. "No," she choked out. "No, no, _no_. Why are you here? What are you doing _here_?"

I couldn't look away from Emily, but I heard the confusion in Sam's voice. "I… I don't remember. Did I know you were coming?"

"_No, _Sam!" She was backing away, hands held out defensively in front of her as she went. "Just leave me alone."

"Is everything okay?" Mike asked tentatively. I wanted to laugh in hysteria. As if anything would ever be okay again. Her face_, _my God, her _face._

"You… don't want me?" Sam sounded as if he were trying on the words for size like an ill-fitting garment. "Still?"

Her eyes narrowed. Well, one eye narrowed, and the other remained mostly the same because it was paralyzed by scar tissue. "No, Sam. I will never, ever want you. Not ever."

_I _wanted him, though. I wanted him to want me, too. It was the worst possible moment to arrive at the realization.

He protested, and I knew her refusal was incomprehensible to him. "But…"

She didn't wait for him to continue, but spun and dashed out into the cold darkness.

I turned back to Sam. He looked like a man who had just been smacked in the gut by a wrecking ball.

"Sam?" I asked, without much hope. "Are you—"

"I have to go," he breathed, and before I could blink the door was already closing behind him. He had gone after her.

"Whoa," Mike said, cocking one eyebrow at me. "What the heck was that all about?"

Forget the hole in my chest. This hurt ten times as badly. My entire body was on fire with agony. "They used to be together," I whispered.

_Not as bad! Not as bad! _my mind tried to comfort me.

_So much worse, _I corrected it.

"She looked really scared of him," Mike observed, giving me a closer examination. "Hey, are you all right?"

_All right. _There was that phrase again.

"I, um… sure." My stomach and chest were in so much pain I could barely stand upright. If I could have found some way to escape my own body, I would have taken it. He was gone. Gone after Emily, just like that, and I had no idea if I would ever see him again or if he would want me if I did.

I wanted to wail. Instead, I searched frantically for something, anything, to distract me. It didn't take long.

Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, I walked to the back room and fished my cell phone out of my purse. I found Jessica's number and texted _still okay if I come?_

A long moment, and then, _Sure! Need her address?_

_Yes, please._

She sent it to me a minute later, followed by, _Bring your coat or you'll get frostbite at the falls._

Like I cared. I texted back _OK _anyway.

I barely survived the rest of the evening, answering Mike's queries with monosyllabic replies that still pained me to speak. Victoria was gone. Sam had said so himself, so I didn't have guilt to keep me captive. It occurred to me to wonder what Charlie would think when he called home and I didn't answer, but I didn't much care about that. Screw him. He didn't get to agree to seeing me two weeks a year for eight years and then all of a sudden think a few months in his house meant he could dictate my life. It was his fault I hadn't had any sort of relief from the emptiness and hurt for most of this week. I was just going to have to make sure I got it on my own, and consequences would just…

I didn't care about them anymore, either.

Once we locked the doors behind us, I waved goodbye to Mike and headed to my truck, driving straight to Alexis' house.


	10. Turning Around

**A/N: I owe BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart more gratitude than an author's note can cover, but at least it's a start. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This chapter's writing music was "Time Is Running Out" by Muse.**

**# # #**

Alexis' parents' house was huge, bigger than any McMansion I had ever seen before. When I pulled into the circular drive, the light pouring from every windowpane lit the way so well my headlights became redundant.

Her mom answered the door before I could get my hand to the bell. I blinked at the picture-perfect blond hair, sweater set, and designer pants, plus shoes that had to have cost several hundred dollars since Alice owned a pair too. "Hi there!" she sing-songed, stepping back to let me enter. "You must be Bella. Lexi told me you'd be here soon."

For an instant, I faltered. Her _mom _was here?

"All the girls are having margaritas out by the pool. Would you like one?"

Oh. What the hell? Why weren't my parents like this? Even Renée tried to keep me from finding out the true purpose of her pill-popping get-togethers with her friends. "Yes, thank you."

Her nervous smile widened. "All righty! Pool's down the hall and to the left. I'll bring your drink in just a moment."

I followed the chatter of voices in the direction she indicated, walking through French doors into a large pool room. The girls were swimming and talking at the top of their lungs, and their voices bounced in every direction until I could barely keep from wincing.

"Bella!" Jessica shrieked as I walked into the room. "Is this not the coolest setup you've ever seen? This pool is saltwater because Lexi's allergic to chlorine. It's fan-freaking-tastic. No lie." She picked up her margarita glass from the deck next to the water and sipped. "Also this tequila is awesome. Thanks, Mrs. Swenson."

"None of the cheap stuff for my baby's friends," Alexis' mom responded, coming in with a glass. She handed it to me. "Go ahead and get in, Bella. My husband's in Germany on business right now so it's just us girls. You don't have to worry about anyone walking in."

I sipped from my glass and blinked as the tequila hit the back of my nose. Whoa. That was… strong. Good, though. The warmth from the alcohol was spreading through my veins and loosening the sick tightness that had knotted up my stomach since Sam had left. I wanted to scream and cry all over again, just thinking about it, but instead I drank more. Alexis' mom gave a quick, awkward wave and left once more.

"So Bella," Jessica was asking, "do you ever want to really _date _since Edward left?"

Huh. The name didn't hurt nearly as badly. Maybe Sam's departure had removed what was left of my heart and there was nothing left to ache. "Mike asked me if I was still going out with you tonight. Is this a date? Because if it is I should've worn better underwear." Oh, yeah. That was nice. My mouth was starting to work and everything. _More booze, please._

She giggled. "You should've told him yes. We would've starred in the fantasies of every boy in Forks High School for the next six months, or at least until graduation. And it wouldn't have interfered with our dating prospects at all because every one of them would've been hoping for a three-way."

"Damn. Next time I'll give him a story. 'Yeah, we were skinny-dipping…'" I noticed with surprise that my glass was empty. Whoa, that'd gone fast. Oh well, it was the most calories I'd had in one sitting all week long, so that couldn't be too bad. The pool was looking better and better. "I wish I would've brought my swimsuit."

"Don't worry about it. Just swim in your underwear. Or, I dunno, nude." With a giggle, Jessica undid her bikini top and let it float away. "There. So you won't feel lonely. God, how many of these did I drink, anyway?"

Eh. Who cared? I lifted my shirt over my head, kicked my jeans off, and left my underwear in a pile on top. A few seconds later, I was floating in the water's comforting embrace.

"If you haven't gone out with anybody I know a couple of guys who're interested," Jessica babbled on. "They keep coming up to me and asking if you like them but I'm like, my God, dude, she just broke up with her ex like two and a half months ago and she still looks all gutted and stuff so why are you asking me? Ask her! And then I bet they never do, do they?"

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Sam's face as he stared out the door after Emily, so I opened them again and gazed at the vaulted ceiling. "Nope. Not one guy has asked. I guess I scared them all off." Not that big of a market for depressed freak shows who heard voices and had big nasty cuts on their faces. It wasn't as if I wanted any of them anyway, but it would have maybe been nice to be pursued.

"I doubt they're scared," Lauren remarked snidely, twirling her glass stem as she stared into her drink.

Ignoring her, Jessica continued, "So if you're up for another round with a high school loser just let me know. But I dunno, that huge guy who met you outside the club and took you home with him was pretty damn hot and he looked like he was way into you when I picked you up that one morning so probably you've got your own back-up plan, huh?"

_Back-up plan. _It would be so great if Sam only meant that much to me, instead of single-handedly personifying anything significant about my life. I laughed a little, said, "Besides you, you mean," and allowed myself to sink underwater. That was better. All I could hear now was indeterminate conversational noises and the sound of the pool filter. I'd made the mistake of closing my eyes again. I beheld Sam, completely destroyed just by seeing the woman he used to love. Still loved. I forced my eyelids open and stared at the water-distorted lights overhead. Eventually lack of air would force me to surface… unless I just let myself drown. Probably one of the others would notice, though, before I finished the job.

If I couldn't die, I might as well drink.

Righting myself and pushing my hair out of my face, I surfaced just in time to hear Alexis' mom ask, "Refills, anyone?"

"Yes please," Lauren and I said together. She gave me a dirty look, but I pretended I didn't see. What, was I supposed to make sure we didn't use the same words now? Maybe I should be certain to only speak in Spanish around her. _Si, por favor._

Two more margaritas and I was… well, I was still feeling pain but at least it wasn't keeping me from having a good time. We got out of the pool, dressed, and went to the kitchen. I still couldn't eat, despite Alexis' mom waving a variety of foods under our noses, but I could talk and smile so that was something.

"Well, I'm going to bed," Mrs. Swenson announced around midnight. "You girls have fun, now, and Alexis, if you decide to go out, be sure you lock up when you leave."

"Okay," Alexis agreed. I watched in disbelief as Mrs. Swenson retreated up the curving staircase.

"I thought parents like her were only in movies," I confessed, turning a wide-eyed gaze toward Alexis.

She giggled, but before she could respond Lauren said, "Good thing they just moved here and don't know who your dad is, or you would have ruined it for all of us."

I flinched. "Lauren, get over it," Jessica ordered, and grabbed my hand to tug me toward the door. "C'mon, Lexi, I just got a text from some of those boys we met last week and they're already at the falls."

"All right, all right," Alexis replied, setting down her glass. For the first time I noticed she'd been drinking water all night. "I guess we'd better take the Lexus. It's the only car that'll fit all of us without our knees in our chins."

We piled into the SUV and Alexis turned onto the main road. Just a few miles away from the house, my cell phone rang. I answered. "Hey Dad."

"Where the hell are you?" he demanded.

"I'm with Alexis Swenson."

"When I gave you your phone back I didn't mean you weren't grounded anymore," he growled. "You need to get your ass back home."

He'd never spoken to me like that. He must be scared. "No." I started laughing as soon as the word left my mouth. I'd never wasted energy on open defiance before when flying below the parental radar had always done the job just as well. Angela lifted an eyebrow at me, which made me laugh harder. Yay, margaritas.

A long pause. "No?"

"No. I'm not coming home. I'm eighteen and I feel like I'm eighty and I never have any fun, ever, and now you're trying to take what I have away and no. I'm not coming home. I hate home. It smells like Edward." That made me snort. _Smells like Edward. _God, I was _so weird. _

"If you're not home by ten o'clock tomorrow I'm putting out a BOLO," he warned. "I'm not going to come out there and drag you away in front of your friends but there are going to be consequences, young lady."

"Whatevs." I pressed the red button and laughed again.

"Whoa." Angela looked impressed. "Chief Swan doesn't care if you talk to him like that? I'd be grounded for life."

"I probably will be too," I confessed with a shrug. "Won't be too different from the way I normally live so who cares?"

Angela's eyebrows dipped in the middle at that. "We could hang out. The two of us. You don't only have to come if everyone else is around or whatever. You shouldn't have to be alone if you don't like it that way."

Oh, crap. The drawback of drinking: I might be able to laugh more but I wanted to cry a lot more too, and tears weren't far from the surface tonight of all nights. I blinked them back and croaked, "Thanks. That's so nice of you. I know I'm boring."

She shook her head in obvious bewilderment. "No you're not. Being quiet isn't the same as being boring or else I'm Dull Central."

I giggled damply. "Definitely you're not."

Angela patted my hand. "Good. You neither."

I knew she was lying, though.

We pulled onto the Sol Duc Hot Springs road and came to a halt at the closed gate a few minutes later. "Thank God it hasn't snowed yet this winter," Jessica said, hopping out. "Also, thank God the gate isn't at the bottom of the road. Look, the guys must've gone on ahead." She pointed to a Land Rover parked nearby.

Together, we trekked up the damp asphalt. For once, the clouds had blown away, leaving the moon fully exposed, lighting our path. I shivered and drew my coat a little more securely around me. Everyone else was talking at the top of their lungs but I didn't have anything left to say at the moment. The images flashing through my mind left my tongue tied. Emily's face. Those scars—like mine, only a million times worse. I could tell, though, that when Sam looked at her, all he saw was the most beautiful woman in the world. A goddess, and not a disfigured one. Nothing like me. Not even a little bit like me.

She'd been so terrified of him. How could anyone be that frightened of Sam, of all people? The only other person I'd ever seen get that scared of him was Sam himself.

"Hey, there's the shelter." Angela pointed. "We're less than a mile from the falls." Now that she mentioned it, I could hear the roar of the water in the distance. We stepped onto the trail, and I promptly tripped, but Jessica caught my arm before I could go all the way down.

"Whoa, Bella." She laughed and helped me stand upright again. "Try not to kill yourself before you've seen the falls."

"Maybe after," I told her, and she laughed again as if it was a joke.

A little farther down the trail, and I could hear male laughter and loud shouting over the sound of the falls. I hesitated, hand going to my face instinctively.

"C'mon, Bella," Angela said, tugging on my elbow. "It's okay. They're really nice, I promise."

Obediently, I picked my way forward through the darkness until the trees thinned out a little bit. Up ahead I saw a wooden bridge, and four guys fooling around on it. As we approached, one of them stood on the top railing and pretended to flail, only to easily step backwards onto the bridge itself with a laugh.

"Hey Sean!" Jessica called, waving, and one of them turned, a grin lighting up his face.

"Jess! Hey!" He hurried over to meet us. "I wasn't sure you'd make it."

She smiled up at him, and I understood why she'd been so determined to come all the way out to the middle of nowhere this late: she _liked _this guy, like, really liked him. The realization sent a stab of pain through my chest. Her expression set off too many echoes in my recollection; I had felt that exact same look on my own face so many times, most recently tonight. Averting my eyes, I hurried past them to the bridge, trying and failing to swallow the thickness in my throat. Angela, Alexis and Lauren waved and said hello to the other boys, but I leaned over the railing and looked down at the three snowy-white plumes shooting down the drop into the river below. A little ice had crystallized on the banks. Mostly, though, the water moved unhindered by winter's chill, and the vapor from the falls rose to frost my skin, dampening my clothes and the wood beneath my crossed arms.

"Hi there."

Without much interest, I turned my head to see one of the new guys leaning against the rail next to me. He was pretty good-looking, with farm-boy handsome features and a shock of golden hair under his baseball cap.

Raising one hand to his mouth and taking a drag of the cigarette he held, he continued, "That's usually the part where you say hi back."

I huffed a chuckle. "Oh right. Sorry. Hi back." I smiled when I said it to soften the sarcasm.

"I'm Nate." He noticed me watching him smoke and dug around in his pocket. "Hey, you want one?"

I took a cigarette from the pack he offered and put it between my lips while he held his lighter to the end. "Thanks. I'm Bella."

"So are you good friends with Ms. Giggles over there?" He indicated Jessica with a wave of his cigarette.

I tried inhaling, and was pleased when I didn't gag or cough the way people always did in books during their first run with smoking. "Jessica's not bad. She's just nervous because she likes what's-his-face."

"Sean." He gave me the side-eye for a moment, and then remarked, "You're not like the other ones. What's your story?"

"The other ones?" I glanced over my shoulder, observed Angela and Alexis easily talking to one of Nate's friends while Lauren drew another a little distance from the rest of us. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't really fit in. I'm not from around here; probably that's it."

"Where are you from?"

For a brief instant, the desire to make up an entire history for myself overwhelmed me. It would be so much less painful than the truth. Telling him the name of my hometown wasn't asking too much, though. "Phoenix. Arizona."

He grinned and tapped off the ash. "Wow. And I thought I was from far away. You must fucking hate it here. Your parents transfer or something?"

"I don't hate it in Washington," I contradicted, surprised as I heard the words to discover they were truthful. "But, no, my mom and dad are divorced and he lives here, so I came to live with him almost a year ago." After a second, I remembered that the art of conversation carried certain responsibilities. "Where are you from?"

"North Dakota. I still go to school there. I'm just here for Christmas break visiting my mom and dad. You're a senior like your friends?" At my nod, he asked, "So where are you gonna go to college? Somewhere in-state?"

The question put me at a loss. Where _was_ I going to go to college? I couldn't just live in my bedroom and work at Newton's for the rest of my life, could I? So that meant I had to go to school next year. But that meant I would have to fill out applications, and do campus visits and interviews, and write essays, and keep my grades up. My PSAT selection index was good but I didn't know what I'd made on my SATs yet, and I hadn't even thought about taking the ACT. I was pretty sure testing for that would be next month.

Oh God. I was going to have to _do something_.

I couldn't. I couldn't do it. It was just too much. How would I even survive till graduation?

Nate started laughing after a long moment of silence. "Wow. You should see your face. You look like nobody told you high school would ever have to end. Don't tell me you're one of those losers who hopes it won't."

"No," I replied, but I sounded as if all the breath had been squeezed from my body. "No, I don't hope that."

He laughed again and seemed about to comment, but then with a careless gesture the cigarette went flying from between his fingers and onto the outer edge of the bridge, between the walkway and where it joined to land. "Oh, shit."

"I'll get it." I set my own cigarette down and scrambled over the railing before I had a chance to think the action through.

"That's not really necessary; you can just reach through from… um, okay…" He crouched down as I balanced on the outside edge, clinging to the railing. "What the hell are you doing, Bella?"

"You can't litter," I told him. "Duh. It's a huge fine."

"Yeah, well, nobody's around who'll report me, so I think I can elude the po-po for a little longer. Can you, uh, come back on this side now? That ground's kind of a ways away."

"Oh, no, I'm all right." I hooked my arm around the bottom rail and reached for the cigarette. My fingers scrambled against the slick wood but couldn't quite reach it.

"Bella, you need to get back over on this side. For fuck's sake, how much did you have to drink before you got here?"

"Not too much. Three margaritas. That tequila is kickass, though." I stretched as far as I could, loosening my hold on the railing as I went. "Damn it, it's just out of reach."

"Three margaritas is a lot for someone who looks like she's got an eating disorder." He watched me, one hand wavering in mid-air as if he couldn't decide what to do with it. "Fuck the cigarette, Bella, and get over here now."

"I've almost got it. Don't worry, if I fall it's no big deal anyway." I slid my arm free until just my fingers were curled around the wood.

"For fuck's sake. You're a fucking idiot." He ran a hand through his hair, knocking off his ball cap in the process. "Jessica, your friend's trying to kill herself."

The words gave me pause. Hmm. Kill myself. Was that what I was trying to do? The moment of reflection loosened my grip on the railing and I slipped, barely catching myself on the edge as half my body slid into mid-air.

"Shit!" I heard Nate exclaim, but all my attention was directed down below at the roiling water, thundering white in the moonlight. If I let go, I'd fall straight into the falls. It might break my neck instantly. If it didn't, I'd be sure to drown before anyone could get to me. I wasn't a strong swimmer by any stretch of the imagination, despite a lifetime spent in Arizona pools.

I waited for Edward to speak, to ask me to get back on the bridge. He remained silent. Maybe he thought I should let go too? I kept on doing these things to hear his voice, and now he wouldn't even talk to me. The water tumbled beneath me in frothy cascades, and I wondered, who would look out for me now that I hung on the edge of life and sanity?

Sam's face appeared in my mind's eye again, completely devastated. His description of the way he'd felt after Emily sent him away ran through my head. How would I feel if I ran into Edward only for him to walk away from me again? My heart contracted at the thought, and I realized it had returned.

Oh shit. Sam. I risked my life to hear a hallucination of Edward's voice, but he had heard the real thing. What if instead of going after her, he had gone home instead, or out like me? Was he jeopardizing himself right now, wondering if he should let Victoria win? After he had fought with himself to allow me to touch him, and let me sleep by his side, I had let him walk away and not even thought to go after him, just because I'd assumed he would only want Emily.

I gasped and swung my arm back up, grasping Nate's outstretched hand. "I have to go."

"Where, to get your head checked?" he demanded, yanking me back over the edge. The others stood in a tense, silent huddle, watching me with wide eyes.

"I've got to go… see somebody." I turned to Alexis. "I'm so so sorry, but can you take me back to your house? I really need to go see someone before something awful happens."

"Uh, sure." She started digging through her purse and pulled out her keys. "It's probably a good idea to get back anyway."

The other girls edged after her with nervous laughs and sideways glances in my direction. "I'll call you," Sean said to Jessica as we walked away, and she beamed over her shoulder.

Lauren broke the quiet as we walked downhill. "If you want to die, you could at least have the common courtesy to do it alone and make it look like an accident."

I shrugged, too preoccupied with thoughts of Sam to really care what she thought, but Jessica turned on her heel and gave Lauren the most evil look I had ever seen. "Shut the _fuck up, _Lauren. Just because you have some personal experience with the issue doesn't mean you can talk to somebody else like that."

Lauren rolled her eyes with a sneer, but she tugged at her sleeves, and the motion caught my attention. I peered at her wrists, and at the thin white lines crisscrossing the veins, barely evident in the dim light.

On our way back, Angela offered me the massive bottle of water she apparently always kept in her purse. "Here, Bella. If you're going to be driving you should at least try to sober up."

"Thanks." With a grateful smile, I took it and started drinking.

As soon as we came to a stop, I hopped out. Good thing I'd brought my purse and keys with me. "Thanks so much for asking me over," I told Alexis. "Sorry I have to run."

"Wait wait wait," Jessica protested. "Don't you have to go to the bathroom? And I saw some espresso double shots in the fridge. Lexi, is it okay if she takes one? Or three?"

"Sure," she replied, unlocking the door.

At this point I was practically dancing with impatience, but I was sober enough to recognize the wisdom of following Jessica's instructions. After I downed a couple of Starbuck's cans' worth of caffeine and visited the bathroom, I said again to Alexis, "Thanks for having me over."

"Thanks for coming," she responded automatically. I knew she didn't mean it, but I smiled anyway before I walked out the door and drove away.

I drove at record slow rates all the way to La Push, mostly because the instant I turned onto the main road I was overwhelmed with terror that I wasn't actually sober enough to be behind the wheel, even though I felt okay. When I got to the rez, I cut the engine at the gate and coasted into the last space at the general store, closest to the woods. Hopefully Harry and Billy wouldn't notice if they went by. It was late enough that I wasn't too worried about other people seeing me, and anyway at this point I didn't much care if Charlie found out. What more could he do to me?

When I got to Sam's house, it was dark except for the porch light. The brown wolf that loped out of the woods to greet me was reassuring though. "Hey Jared," I whispered. "Is he home?"

Jared sat and whined.

"He had a bad day." A thought occurred to me. Curiously, I asked, "Can you read his mind, the way he can read yours?"

With what looked like a massive effort, he shook his head from side to side. It was clearly an unnatural motion for the wolf, but it got the point across. No. Okay, better not to divulge details on why Sam was acting like this, then.

"I'm gonna go in." I started for the front door, but barely took two steps before Jared stood in front of me, blocking the way. "Hey, I've got to see him. It's important." I tried to move forward, but he wasn't budging. A slight growl escaped from his chest. I jerked back in surprise (and, okay, a little fear—Emily's scars had driven the point home about how dangerous the werewolves could be to humans). "What?"

He put one paw on my foot, lightly. I thought for a moment, and then made a guess. "Do you think I'm the one who hurt him?" He sat down, tilting his head. "Oh. No, it wasn't me. He ran into someone while he was at my work."

This time, when I walked to the door, he didn't stop me.

I pushed the door open, calling, "Sam? It's Bella." I knew he'd probably heard me outside, but it seemed rude not to say anything. He didn't answer, so I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, listening hard as I kicked off my shoes and let my coat and purse drop. At last, I detected the sound of breathing in his bedroom. Feeling my way along the wall, I made my way back there. I paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before me. It looked as though Sam had sat down on the edge of the bed and not stirred in hours. He stared out the window, chest barely moving. Grief weighed down on my heart.

"Hey," I greeted him softly.

Sam didn't respond, so I sidled closer to the bed.

"That was awful, wasn't it? I can't even imagine how you felt. Well, actually, I probably can. If Edward came back and I wasn't ready, I would be in the same sort of situation. I most likely wouldn't _ever _be ready, really."

He still didn't move, but I could sense him listening. Taking courage from that, I moved to stand in front of him. "I'm really sorry that happened, Sam." I reached to put my hand on his shoulder, and before I could blink he was standing across the room, still not looking at me.

I sighed and sat down in his vacated spot. The blankets were warm beneath me, which was nice because the heat definitely wasn't running. "Yeah, I should've expected you'd react that way." Staring at my hands, I debated my next course of action. Keeping my voice low-pitched, I continued, "It's really okay, you know. I saw what you did to her and I still don't think you could ever do it again. I kind of accidentally tried to kill myself tonight, though, so maybe my brain isn't working at full capacity."

That got his attention. His head whipped around and he stared at me, clearly appalled, although he still made no sound.

"Yeah. I didn't mean to do it, it just kind of happened, but there you go. I've never told you this—I've never told anybody this—but sometimes, when I'm doing dumb stuff on purpose, I hear Edward's voice. Like he was standing right next to me telling me not to be stupid, you know? Not that it ever made me stop. He didn't talk to me tonight, though. I just was wondering how much worse it would've been if I'd heard him in person, let alone seen him, and then I realized how awful it must be for you, and I had to come."

I wrung my fingers. "Ever since I met you—that night—when you were bleeding all over the place and I was trying to push the pieces of your skin back together so you could get better before all the blood ran out… Sam, you're the only thing that's made me worthwhile. I know that technically I should be worthwhile just because I exist, but so far that's not helping much and knowing that I was able to do something for you does help and… I'm making this selfish, aren't I? Well, I know I'm selfish, and self-centered, and stupid too, in more ways than one. But I can't seem to get better, unless I'm with you. But sometimes you seem better when you're around me, too. And if you would let me help you again, tonight… I know your body's not hurt anymore but I don't think your werewolf healing powers work on your heart, or your mind, and I want to help with those, too, if you'll let me. If I can."

I couldn't look at him now; I directed my gaze at my lap. "So, I know what you're going through, kind of… remember when we talked about how it felt, to break the imprint? I think I might be the only person who knows exactly how you feel right now. And it doesn't scare me. You don't scare me. I know you're capable of hurting me but I also know you won't. And it's not because I want to believe it, it's because you've proven that you'd rather risk your life than take that chance." I rolled my eyes, blinking back tears. "I'm babbling. But all that to say, um, I would really appreciate it if you would come here. If you would let me help. Because I'm starting to wonder if we're each other's only chance and I'd like to find out if that's true or… not…"

I trailed off because the mattress lowered beside me. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam sitting on its edge.

"Hey," I whispered with half a smile. Sliding my fingers across the bed, I brushed his where they splayed on the bedspread between us. He shivered, but it didn't seem like a bad reaction, so I overlaid the back of his hand entirely with my own. "Thanks." Gathering up a bit more daring, I slid my palm up and down his forearm. "Worst night in a while, huh?"

He nodded, watching the motion of my hand.

"Yeah. Me too. I'm glad I'm here with you, though." I swallowed, hard, and clutched at every fragment of courage I possessed as I scooted back onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard. "C'mere."

He lifted his gaze to mine, but didn't move.

"I'm serious. Come here. I bet you haven't really slept since I left last week. I know I haven't." I lay down on my back. "Come on. Trust me." He still didn't move, so I closed my eyes and begged. "Please, Sam. Please."

I felt the bed shaking before the heat on my right side let me know he'd arranged himself beside me. After a second, I got up the guts to open my eyes again and look at him. He was lying on his back, too. I lifted my hand and stroked his hair, running my nails gently against his scalp, and now he closed _his _eyes. "That _is _better, right?"

Sam nodded again.

"I think we should stick close to each other from now on and see what happens. What do you think?"

He moved toward me again, too fast to see, rolling over and clinging to my waist, then releasing it and smoothing up my shirt as he pressed his face to my stomach. More tears sprang to my eyes, but this time at least they were happy. I kept running my fingers through his hair. "There. Just… stay there? For a while?"

He nodded once more against my skin.

"Thank you, Sam." My eyes were closing of their own accord.

Before I went to sleep, I heard him respond. "Bella." That was it, but it made me smile as I succumbed to weariness.


	11. Starting Over

**A/N: BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart must love me, because they've read and beta'd this fic in all its incarnations - including this chapter, which I wrote in two different versions. I hope y'all like the one I ended up choosing. :-D Any errors (in judgement or otherwise) remaining are mine, of course. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song for this chapter is another by Future of Forestry (they kind of underwrote this fic): "Horizon Rainfall."**

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I awoke on my stomach, arms crossed beneath my head. Sam's head lay in the small of my back. My shirt was still bunched up to just under my shoulder blades. One heavy arm crossed my legs and curved up my side, cradling me against him. Rather than roll over, and wake him from the first decent sleep he'd had in who knew how long, I propped up my chin on my top arm and stared at the headboard as if the fake grain on the cheap presswood would provide entertainment. The motion triggered the waves of pain from the inevitable hangover (one day I would have to learn to take Tylenol before I went to bed), so I quickly returned to my former position. The suddenness of the movement undid my good intentions, though, because I felt the arm around me tense and the tiny tickle of his eyelashes against my skin as he blinked awake.

"Don't go," I whispered before he could leave me.

A long pause, during which I desperately tried to guess what he was feeling and failed. "No."

I relaxed again at the finality in his tone. "Good." Closing my eyes, I asked, "Do you wish I hadn't come here?"

This time, the response came instantly. "No." Then, "Yes, but for your sake, not mine. But I can't… I don't want you to leave." Before I could examine that statement for hidden meanings, he added, "I want you to stay. With me."

He seemed certain of that, too. I allowed myself to move from relaxation into contentment, breathing deeply just to feel the weight of his head and shoulders as my stomach lifted and fell. Rain drummed overhead on the tin roof.

I almost let sleep overtake me again, but Sam spoke before I could drift off. "Bella."

The sound of him speaking my name sent a shiver through me. I wanted to hear him say it again and again. "Yeah?"

"Last night… Before you showed up, I thought you weren't coming back. That I wouldn't see you again."

"Oh." Now I did roll over. He raised himself enough to allow it, but laid his head on my stomach, keeping his arm over my hips as he looked up at me. Reaching to run my fingers through his hair again, I said, "I kind of thought the same thing, but about you. I meant what I said, though. I… I…" It sounded stupid, but I didn't know how else to say it. "I care about you. Even if… God. Do you even like me?"

A tremor of laughter reverberated in his chest. "Yeah. I like you a lot." He turned his head and kissed my hipbone just above the waistband of my jeans. Holy crap, his mouth was _hot_.

Hip-kissing meant… more than friendship-like, right? Unless he just wanted to be a semi-regular hook-up or something… I was _so _bad at relationship navigation. "Okay. What I mean is, even if you don't _like-_like me, I would still want to be your friend. I would still want to see if you were okay after a day like yesterday."

Sam smiled slightly, amusement lighting up his eyes. "Did you say if I _like-_like you? Do you think I would want you here in my bed if I didn't?"

Warmth spread from where his cheek pressed to my bared belly, radiating through every part of me. I toyed with the short ends of his hair and tried to control my expression. "It's just… I'm not sure how I would feel. If I had seen Edward yesterday, and he had left me again, and then you came to me. I'm not sure what I would want, or…" I knew what I wanted right now, though. Having him so close definitely made me want him closer.

He kissed my hipbone again. "I'm not sure how I feel about yesterday. You're right; it's a total mindfuck every time I run into her."

"Okay." That was fair, but it hurt to hear. _Stop it, _I ordered myself. _Like you're completely over Edward._

Frowning, Sam rose to come lie down next to me, head propped up on one hand as he looked into my face. "You look sad."

So much for expression control. Well, I'd never been anything less than honest with him. I wasn't going to start now. "I am. But it's all right." I closed my eyes rather than give myself away entirely.

And nearly whimpered when I felt his lips brush my eyebrow. Oh. That felt _so_ nice. The glancing pressure of his mouth eased the heartache a little. Now, there was a thought worth considering.

"Bella." I shivered again. "I don't want you to be sad."

_Don't cry don't cry. _"I don't want you to be sad either."

His breath burnt my ear as he lowered his head to murmur next to mine. "I'm not sad. I'm glad you're here."

That made my eyes fly open in surprise. "You… you are? I thought you said—"

Concern had drawn a tiny line between his brows. "I'm not sure how I feel about yesterday. That doesn't mean I'm not sure about _now._"

"Oh." He didn't seem nearly as jumpy as he had the night before. I moved with care anyway as I raised my palm to rest on his chest, still covered by the shirt he'd put on to visit me at work. His heartbeat pounded against it, steady and sure. "So… how do you feel about now?" _How do you feel about me? _I wanted to say, but even with Sam I couldn't be that honest.

His whole face softened at the question. "I'm happy you're here."

The glow in his eyes turned me light-headed and reckless. I remembered wondering what he would do if I kissed him in the store. Maybe I could try now, instead, if he was okay with it. "Would you be happi_er_ if I kissed you?" I blurted. "Or would that ruin it?"

He laughed again, but he sounded as if I'd punched him in the gut. "Ruin it… No."

"Okay."If it would make him happier, I wanted to try it. Hell, I wanted to try it just because. I grasped his shirt and tugged. "C'mere." Confident, confident, even if I didn't feel it...

He was doing that thing he'd done at the store, looking between my eyes and my lips as if he couldn't decide which were most enticing. Obeying the pull of my hand, he leaned over me until his mouth hovered less than an inch from mine—and then froze.

Maybe he was nervous for more reasons than one. "How long's it been?" I whispered.

"More than a year," he whispered back. He was being so careful not to let his weight bear down on me, but I could still feel his body over almost every inch of my own, and the feeling was turning me crazy with wanting him.

"That's way too long."

Still he hesitated, until at last I tilted my face up and pressed my lips to his.

The contact only lasted a handful of seconds before I dropped back to take in his reaction. I couldn't read his expression, though. He just looked… more intense. "What do you think?" Too late, it occurred to me that probably I should have at least rinsed my mouth out before giving the poor guy his first kiss in forever.

"I think…" But instead of continuing, he lowered his lips to mine once more. This time, he didn't hold back. His hand buried deep in my hair and his leg slid across mine, effectively pinning me to the bed. Making a happy noise in my throat, I opened my mouth and let his tongue slide in to meet my own. Ooh, yes. That was perfect.

Just as I was starting to forget that anything else existed outside the two of us, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Sam pulled away again, this time to flop on his back beside me and throw one arm over his eyes. Stunned by his sudden withdrawal, I sat up. "Sam? What's…? Did I do something wrong?" A quick glance downwards told me that I'd been doing _something _right, anyway.

"_No,_" he denied vehemently. "No. Not you. I'm just not sure if this is—if I'm—"

"You're not going to hurt me."

He moved his arm to look at me from under it. A flash of emotion crossed the strong features, and then I understood. He was _scared_. Being scared didn't have anything to do with rational thought—nobody knew that better than I.

"It's going to be fine," I soothed. What could I do to make him feel like I was safe from him? "Put your hands under your head?"

Eyeing me warily, he complied, crossing his arms beneath his head. Of course, there was nothing at all stopping him from sitting up or anything else, but this was about perception, not reality.

"Okay. Now don't move, all right? I'll go slow, I promise." _Don't move, _whispered Edward's voice, but this time it was just a memory from our first visit to the meadow. Kneeling beside Sam, I gently kissed the corner of his mouth, which pulled up reflexively at the contact. I kissed the other corner to make him smile, and then his chin. "See? It's okay, Sam." He was breathing hard, chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow pants, but I couldn't tell how much of that was because he was frightened and how much was due to liking what I was doing to him. I pressed my lips to his jaw, the tender place just below his ear, and then marked a trail down his neck to his shoulder. He made a tiny sound when I kissed the muscle above his collarbone, so I did it again, running my tongue along his smooth skin. Sam shuddered and jerked beneath me as if he'd almost moved his arms, but at the last minute he seemed to remember his promise and settled back.

I sucked on his earlobe and that made him groan, "Bella…" as he turned his face toward mine.

"Not hurt yet," I pointed out with a grin. I couldn't help it. He was so big and powerful and I had him at my mercy.

He shook his head at me, but he looked a _lot _happier than I'd ever seen him. "Come back? Please?"

The words produced a rush of wetness between my legs. I bit my lip. Huh. Okay, that was _way_ sexy. "I'm not going anywhere. I like this." Sliding one leg over him, I straddled his waist and blinked down innocently. "Wow. I survived that too."

Sam clearly was torn between laughter and horror. "You're killing me. _I'm_ not gonna survive. One way or another, I'm having a heart attack this morning."

"Sshh," I soothed, pushing my palms beneath his shirt and running them over steely abs. "I'm pretty sure only one of us can be super-neurotic or this relationship will never work. Since no one dies if I can't sell camping equipment, the neurotic one can be me. I'll make that sacrifice for the greater good."

Sam's eyelids lowered as he surveyed me. "That's very generous of you. You're right, one of us is going to have to be somewhat functioning."

"Of course I'm right." I lifted his shirt and kissed his chest. He inhaled sharply, but it didn't sound scared. "I'm the Queen of Right. Princess of Perception. Now lie still because I need to see you. No, wait. Take this off?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, raising his head to allow me to draw off his shirt entirely, and then he lay back again.

Staring, I traced the lines of his muscles with one finger. Wow. Just… wow. I'd seen Sam shirtless so many times, but this was the first time I'd had all that beautiful strength at my disposal. "Sam…" I flicked a glance up to his face, then back down again. It didn't seem equal for him to be half-dressed when I wasn't. _Double nomination for Bullshitter of the Year Award goes to... _"Wait." Before I could lose my nerve, I unbuttoned my flannel overshirt and tossed it to the floor, then pulled my t-shirt off. I wasn't wearing a bra—I rarely bothered with one when I had two shirts on.

Sam's eyes went wide. His lips parted, but no words came out for a second, and then the strangest thing happened—I saw a flash of sadness darken his expression. He wiped it away almost instantly, but it shook my self-assurance. I crossed my arms over my chest and shivered with a sudden chill. Sam's eyebrows met in the middle at that, and he looked up from my boobs. "Bella?"

I closed my eyes and saw Emily. Tall, curvy, and gorgeous on the side unmarred by scars. "I know I'm not like her." Except my face was damaged too, but I wasn't going to bring that up now.

He didn't bother pretending ignorance. "I'm glad you aren't."

I tried to laugh, but it sounded wet and unsteady. "Sure."

"I mean it. If you looked like her, I'd always wonder, in the back of my head, if maybe I was with you because of that. If maybe I was looking for a replacement instead of liking you for you."

I opened my eyes again, but I couldn't look at his face. Instead, I leaned forward, moving at a snail's pace, until my torso pressed to the length of his. Sam shook under me as I laid my cheek against his chest. His heartbeat pounded so quickly beneath my ear that I felt my own speed up in instinctive response. _No. _That wasn't what either of us needed. Focusing on keeping my breaths steady, I wrapped my arms around him. If I'd hugged an oven, I wouldn't have been hotter.

Eventually, his breathing calmed and his heartbeat slowed a little, though it stayed faster than mine. I wondered idly if it had something to do with his speedier healing rate. Turning my face to kiss his chest again, I murmured, "I'd like to point out that we're both half-naked and touching and I'm perfectly fine."

Sam had to clear his throat before responding. "Still the Queen of Right."

"And Princess of Perception. Yes."

"Can I…" He swallowed. "Can I try something?"

My heart leapt at the words, but I carefully kept my reply casual. "Sure. Anything you want, as long as it doesn't scare you."

He laughed softly. "I'm going to be terrified no matter what."

"Okay. Try anyway."

Sam hesitantly withdrew his arms from underneath his head and slid his hands down my sides. I hummed with pleasure; it felt like when I used to lie on the living room floor in Phoenix, in the sunlight beneath the biggest window. "Move here?" He rolled a little so I was lying down next to him on my side.

Curious, I looked up at him. "What are we doing?"

"Not you—me. Unless you change your mind. I want to touch you."

Instantly, a deep blush spread from my stomach all the way to my scalp—I knew because I could watch _and _feel its progress up my body. "Oh," I said faintly. "Yes, please?"

Sam gave me a small smile and then deliberately laid his palm on my upper arm. I smiled, too, and closed my eyes, keeping as motionless as I could so I wouldn't frighten him away. Again, a whisper of recollection flitted through my mind—holding so still, not certain if Edward had overcome the urge to kill me—but then I reminded myself, this was different. I wasn't holding still so Sam wouldn't forget not to murder me; I was doing it so he wouldn't be frightened. _As _frightened.

Taking a deep breath, Sam slid his hand up to my shoulder and then down my side, moving with slow deliberation. When he got to my waist, he splayed his fingers wide, encompassing my hip, and then drew his fingertips across my stomach before heading back up. This time, though, he circled my breast with gentle brushes of his knuckles. I couldn't help whimpering then, but I resisted the urge just to press his whole hand to it. Barely. My pulse thrummed in my throat as he ducked his head and pressed his face to the curve of my neck.

"You smell so good," he mumbled into my skin.

I giggled. "Wow. You _must _be hard up if you can think that when I haven't showered or brushed my teeth or anything."

"No, it's not that." Sam nuzzled his way down to my shoulder, just barely brushing it with his nose, and did the same to my chest, below my collarbone. "After I phased, smells like that didn't bother me anymore. I mean, they started smelling good. And stuff I used to like, like laundry detergent and new cars, started to reek. I buy everything unscented now. So, you really, really smell…" He inhaled, sweeping the length of my chest and stomach, all the way down to my navel. "Amazing." He kissed my belly.

I almost reached to pull him up, but at the last second remembered and instead asked, "Come up here?"

He complied instantly, and kissed me on the mouth before I had to request it._ Ooh, yes._ Having Sam this close to me made me ecstatic, so much so that I had to repress a desire to laugh. That feeling faded into something more intense when his hand began to wander over my body again. When he palmed my breast, I jumped a little, gasping against his lips.

Immediately, he stilled. "Too much?"

I shook my head emphatically, pulling back to look him in the eye. "No. I like it. It's just…" Okay, this was humiliating, but… "I've never done this sober before." Again, that flash of sadness crossed his face, and I demanded, "What? Tell me what's the matter."

Sam dropped his gaze to watch his hand as he rubbed his thumb over my nipple. I bit my lip so I wouldn't moan and interrupt. "You've been doing a pretty good job of hurting yourself the past few months."

It was true, so I didn't try to argue the point. Instead, I leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You're doing a pretty good job of making me feel good, though, so that balances it a little, right?"

He looked up again, eyes lighting in a smile. "I don't think one morning can undo all those weeks at once. Though it'd be good for my ego if you could convince me."

"I can't have you getting conceited about this," I told him solemnly. "Sorry, but it'll take at least two mornings at our current pace. Try harder."

He swallowed, and all the air seemed to rush out of the room when he asked hoarsely, "How much harder?"

I'd thought my heart had taken permanent residence in my throat. It turned out I had been wrong, because suddenly it lodged directly between my legs and showed no indication of leaving. "Um… You can… I want you to…" Crap. How hard _did _I want him to try today? If we went all the way a few minutes after our first kiss, did that make me a slut? Did I care if I was? I didn't know the answer to any of those questions, so I stuck to what I _did_ know. "I love this. I don't want to stop. But I don't want to push you, either."

He seemed to waver. "You'll tell me if you want me to stop, though."

"Yes." I knew that was important to him, so I looked him in the eye and repeated it. "Yes, I will. Promise." He didn't move, so I pushed his shoulder gently. "Hey. _Don't _stop. That's an order from your queen."

_That_ broke through his haze of indecision. Sam lowered his head to the nipple not covered by his thumb and licked. I flinched as a bolt of electricity shot from there through my entire body. "Oh God." Thankfully, he didn't misinterpret my reaction, because he did it again, and again, and then began to suck, long, deep pulls with his lips and tongue that sent dizzying tendrils of arousal spiraling through my entire body. I couldn't seem to take a deep breath—it was like the opposite of a panic attack. I couldn't draw air into my lungs because everything felt so _good_: his mouth, moving between my breasts; his hands, smoothing over every bit of skin they could reach; his body, pushing me down into the mattress as I lifted myself to him.

_Want this want this want this _chanted my brain and my body, in sync for once in my life. Sam worked one hand beneath me and slid it down to my ass, pressing me up into his erection. I heard myself moan, "Ooohhh, _please_," when he thrust against me, and almost started at the unfamiliar tone of my voice.

Sam propped himself on his other arm, raising his mouth to my ear. He licked the outer curve of its shape and whispered, "You taste even better than you smell." That wrung a wordless sound of longing from me. His lips curved into a smile against my cheek. "And you feel even better than you taste."

He sounded so happy. I _loved _that I could do that for him. "Told you," I gasped, trying not to be too obvious about how I was grinding against him. "Queen of Right."

"Princess…" He licked my neck from bottom to top in one feverish swipe. "Of Perception. I pay attention to royalty."

I wasn't sure if he would do it on his own, so I wriggled to push my hands between us and undid my jeans button. Before I could unzip them, though, he shot his hand down to hold my wrist, and then just as quickly released it. "Sorry. Sorry."

He looked panic-stricken. "No, it's okay," I reassured him, stroking his sides. "You didn't hurt me. What's up? You don't…" Oh crap, what if I'd been too pushy? Just because I knew he liked it, and that it felt good to him too, didn't mean I could be certain he wanted to go farther. What I understood about the way boys thought could fit on one side of a cocktail napkin. "_I'm _sorry; I shouldn't have assumed that you—"

"No, no, you're right," he interrupted. "I want it too, it's just…" He ducked his head; to my charmed surprise, I saw red tinge the tops of his ears and edges of his cheekbones. "I can always stop. I'm not saying I couldn't. But could you maybe have mercy on me and… Like I said, it's been a while."

It took me a second to understand what he was telling me, and then I exhaled in comprehension. "Oh." Nibbling on my lip, I thought about right, and perception, and what exactly I'd be telling him about myself if I went ahead and took my pants off anyway. "If I don't want to stop, would that be okay?"

Sam caressed the inside of one of my thighs, and nodded against my chest. He didn't seem able to talk.

I thought some more. The romantic girl who'd confessed her innocence in a meadow so many months ago had pretty much disappeared. I no longer thought I had to be _in love _to want to give it up. But, even if I did… Well, I didn't need certainty right now. I just needed Sam. "Help me get these off." Sam shivered above me, but complied, carefully sliding my pants down around my ankles. I kicked them off and then got rid of my underwear. Before I could get totally freaked out, I tugged at his cut-offs. _Confident. Confident. Like I do this every day. _"These too?" Obediently, he drew them down and off, and then for the first time ever I was naked with a guy. He lay on his back beside me—apparently being on top _and _nude was too much.

"Whoa," I breathed, reaching to touch him with cautious fingers. That looked… _way _nicer than pictures. Also bigger. Folding my hand around the hard shape, I pumped up and down a couple of times.

Sam groaned, throwing his arm back over his eyes and arching into my grasp. "Oh, fuck." Holy shit, and I thought I was turned on _before. _Everything was throbbing with want now, set on fire by his helpless response. I did it again, and he begged between gritted teeth, "Bella, _please._"

He sounded as if he were in pain. I knew the feeling; I wanted him so badly that I hurt, too. Sliding up to straddle him once more, I kissed his lips softly. "Okay."

Sam lowered his hands to rest over my knees and looked into my eyes. "You've never done this sober, you said?"

It would have been so nice to forget about my conscience. Yet another drawback of being alcohol-free at the moment. Bracing myself, I confessed, "I've never gone this far at all."

His eyebrows shot up; every muscle beneath me went tense in shock. "You're a _virgin_?"

If we'd come this far to turn back now, I was going to go into hysterics. I wouldn't be able to stop myself. "Please tell me that isn't a problem."

His body didn't seem to think it was a problem; I could feel him, hard and insistent against my rear still. After a second, he blew out a shaky breath and said, "So I _am _going to hurt you."

I shrugged. "I don't think so." I'd used tampons since I was fourteen; one day I'd felt something give and things had gotten exponentially more roomy, so I was pretty sure I'd be okay. There was no way I would tell him that though. "Sam… please trust me. Should we use a condom? Is there a reason...? I'm on Depo; you don't have to worry about that. But um..."

"I know," he responded absently, rubbing my arms up and down—whether to comfort him or me, I couldn't be sure. He gazed into space, lost in thought.

I filed the _I know _away for future reflection and prompted, "Sam? Is it a problem?"

Shaking his head, he focused on me again. "No. It's not a problem. And I'm clean... After the... Leah didn't trust me... She was tested and clean, and werewolves can't get sick regardless. It's your decision."

I couldn't help the huge, relieved smile that spread across my face in response to his acquiescence. "Oh, good."

"But… you're going to have to do it. I don't think I can…"

I lifted my hand to cradle his cheek as he trailed off. Wow. He was so scared, and trying to hide it so hard. "That's fine."

Okay. I could do this. I scooted back so that I could grasp his length and hold him steady beneath me. He was slick at the tip; curiously, I ran my thumb over it, and he made a pained sound. I murmured to him, silly phrases, "it's fine, it's fine, hey, it's okay," as I slowly lowered myself down on him. It seemed to take forever, and there was a brief twinge of discomfort, but it faded so fast I barely noticed before he was buried fully in me. Closing my eyes, I waited for the stretching feeling to dissipate.

"Bella?" His worried question broke the silence. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, I braced myself on his chest and lifted up a little. Oh. _Oh. _"Yes. God, yes. You feel amazing," I told him, sliding back down. _Ooohh._ So hot, so hard, so _perfect. _

"All right, stop stop stop," he said, lightly overlaying my hips with his hands. "Just wait."

My eyes flew open and I glared. "Why do I have to stop?"

He laughed a little. I couldn't help but relax and grin in response to the elation I read on his face. "I just want to make sure it's good for you too. _Then _you can move."

"Oh. Okay." I couldn't argue with that.

Sam moved one hand to where we were joined and swept his thumb up from that point to my most sensitive spot, spreading my own wetness around it while I moaned and struggled to stay upright. "Goddamn, you feel so good, Bella," he whispered, circling his thumb faster. I rocked in response, angling into his touch. He groaned again, hips lifting in tiny, involuntary jerks beneath me. His other hand moved back up to my breasts.

It didn't take long; I was so close already that he only had to stroke me for a minute or two before I clenched tightly around him and came, moaning his name. Sam pulled me down into an embrace, rolled us over and finally started moving inside me, being careful to keep his body high above my own. Sapped of energy by the strength of my orgasm, I could barely stir to meet his thrusts, but when I did he growled and clutched me to him, throbbing inside me as he shuddered.

I was so tired now that I could hardly move, even when Sam kissed me over and over again, sweet, closed-mouth kisses, his lips bowing upward with happiness as he smoothed my hair back, away from my face. Rationally, I knew I had about a billion things to think about, but really, all I wanted to do was rest.

So, when Sam pulled the covers over me and drew my back against his front, I didn't fight the urge any longer. After I murmured, "Hey, look, we're both still okay," I fell asleep, cradled in his embrace.


	12. Recognizing Facts

**All the hugs to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, WolfGirlAtHeart for beta'ing and pre-reading. (BellaFlan just marked her story Stigmata Tomato complete this week. It's the most bizarre mixture of humor and angst I've read since another of her stories, Becoming Bella Swan. Check it out under my favorites.) Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I listened to "So Close So Far," by, you guessed it, Future of Forestry, while I wrote this chapter.**

**# # #**

I jolted out of sleep with a yelped, "Oh crap! Charlie!"

My head thumped down on the pillow before I registered Sam's movement. Sitting up, I saw him standing in the doorway. We stared at each other for a moment, and simultaneously relaxed.

"Sorry," I told him, and held out my hand. "Come back?"

After taking a deep breath, he warily made his way back to the bed and sat, grasping my fingers. "What's wrong? Bad dream?"

Embarrassed, I shook my head. "Um, no. I'm sorry, I just... He told me if I didn't call by ten today that he'd put out a BOLO for me—Be On the Lookout," I explained when his brows furrowed. "I've got to find my phone. Hopefully it's still got a charge."

Sam disappeared from the bed again, but before I could wonder about it he materialized in front of me, holding out my purse. I blinked in momentary confusion. "Wow. That's... I'm so jealous. I can't even walk without falling half the time."

Looking up, I saw a half-smile lightening his expression. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

That made me snort. "Sure. I think you're giving me too much." He was still hovering uncertainly, so I reached for his hand and tugged. "Sit next to me."

Obediently, he joined me on the mattress, and then, with a deliberate movement, he swept my hair over one shoulder and kissed the bared side of my neck. For the first time, I noticed we were both still naked. I'd woken up in such a paroxysm of terror over my dad that I'd almost forgotten what led to that state. As if I needed more proof I was messed up in the head...

Oh my God. I slept with Sam. I wasn't a virgin anymore.

I dialed mechanically. Charlie's phone went straight to voice mail—probably he was calling the FBI on one line and the U.S. Marshals on the other. "It's me. I'm alive. I'm in La Push. Talk to you soon." Hanging up, I checked the time: 9:56. Well, I'd had four minutes to spare. That wasn't too bad, right?

I didn't realize I was staring out the window until Sam's even voice broke the silence. "How are you feeling?"

How was I feeling? I did a mental inventory. Pain in my head and between my legs, although the latter wasn't nearly as bad as the former. Nausea in my stomach. Sickening anxiety in my chest.

"I'm fine," I said distantly, still gazing outside at the cold gray light.

I was so not fine. Not fine, even a little teeny bit. What had I been thinking? I'd been the one to pursue _him_. Why hadn't I waited for him to make the first move? He'd always shown up to protect me, but he'd rarely given any sort of indication he was interested in me in any other way until this morning. Sure, he'd clung to me in the night, but that could have just been because I was _there_. Frantically, I flipped through my recollection, trying to find something that would provide reassurance. _I want you to stay. With me. _That could be because he wanted to keep me safe. _I like you a lot... I'm happy you're here. _That came closer to the target, but still, there were so many things that could mean. And I'd just gone ahead and seduced him anyway. It had all felt so _easy; _I hadn't had to make any effort at all...

_Anything you want, _I'd told him. And I'd meant every word.

Oh shit. _Shit. _I was in love with Sam Uley.

Grabbing the top sheet and wrapping it around myself, I dashed for the bathroom and threw up. When the retching reduced to dry heaves, I burst into tears. I couldn't seem to stop myself even though I knew I was being stupid. How was it even _possible _for me to be in love with Sam when I wasn't over Edward? Was that something that could happen to anybody, or was I even more of a freak than I'd suspected? For all my talk about how we might be each other's only chance, I had meant _eventually_, after my head was somewhat straightened out and he wasn't constantly terrified of touching me and Victoria was taken care of and we knew each other better and... Not _now._

One hot hand smoothed my hair away from my face; another pressed to the small of my back. "Bella." Sam, shorts back on, knelt beside me. His face was utterly impassive.

Remorse flooded me as I realized how my behavior must look to him. Poor Sam. He was always so scared he would hurt me. Me crying like this had to look like his worst case scenario. Hoping I wouldn't frighten him more, but unable to stop myself, I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck. The sheet fell to the floor as I did so, and our bare chests pressed to each other. Hesitantly, his arms folded around me, too. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," I sobbed, tucking my face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "It isn't your fault. I think..." I couldn't tell him what I really thought. Instead, I climbed into his lap and clung tightly. _Don't leave don't leave don't leave. _"Just let me rinse my mouth out and I'll explain."

He stood, effortlessly lifting me to my feet along with him. Cradling me under one arm, he reached with the other and handed me the mouthwash bottle. I shifted sideways to open it with shaking hands and rinsed my mouth out, leaning away from him just long enough to spit into the sink before resting my head on his chest once more. The effort stalled my crying, which was a relief. With a sigh, I closed my eyes. Sam ducked to pick me up. A second later, I felt the sheet wrap around me again, and then he started walking.

This was the longest he'd ever stayed with me without leaving to check on Paul and Jared. As he sat me down on the bed again, I asked, "Do you need to go see if the other two are okay?"

"I would know if something had happened," he replied. The sheet disappeared. I opened my eyes to see him looking me over from head to toe, searching, I knew, for evidence that he had failed to keep me safe from him. "Tell me what's wrong, Bella. I can't fix it if you don't talk to me." Apparently my body passed inspection, because he wrapped me up again and waited for an explanation.

I opened my mouth, and closed it again. I might not have much experience with dating, but even I knew it was a dumb move to tell the guy you'd just slept with that you were in love with him, particularly in answer to the question, _what's wrong?_ Plus, wasn't that kind of the problem with Edward? I'd told him I loved him so _fast, _and even though it had been true, I wished I had kept a little of myself in reserve. Maybe if I had, he wouldn't have taken it all with him when he left.

Sam stood beside the bed, away from me. I couldn't bear it if my idiocy cost us our newly gained closeness, especially now that I knew how well we fit together. Propping myself up on my elbows, I blurted, "You're not holding me and I need you to."

I wasn't convincing enough, apparently, because his brows furrowed even more deeply, but after a second he climbed onto the bed next to me. Unable to stop myself, I rolled, taking the sheet with me, and wrapped around him, face in his shoulder, arm around his chest, leg around his waist. Almost instantly, the heat pouring from his skin surrounded me like a second blanket. He shifted so that he could wrap his lower arm around me, and began stroking my hair with one slightly trembling hand, from the crown of my head down to the middle of my back. Some of the tension seeped out of my limbs under the gentle caresses. "I'm not hurt," I tried to reassure him, turning my face to kiss the skin beside it. "I'm fine. Better than fine. You didn't hurt me, I promise."

"Please tell me what's wrong," he requested, so quietly it was nearly a whisper.

I didn't want to start lying now, but I really, really didn't want to tell him the truth. After a minute of internal debate, I scooted up to kiss his cheek. "I... If I swear that it isn't anything you did or didn't do, can we leave it at that for now? Please? I'm sorry if I made it seem like it's your fault, because it's not." Unless I counted it as his fault that he'd made me fall in love with him, which didn't seem fair.

He didn't like that. I could tell by how long it took him to answer. "Yes. For now."

Now that I was back in Sam's embrace, I started to remember why exactly I'd lost my mind earlier. He felt really, really good. Better than Edward's voice, better than drinking, better than anything. I ran my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes with a sigh, relaxing almost imperceptibly. Would it be all right if I kissed his mouth? I couldn't figure out what the rules were about these sorts of things, especially when dealing with a jumpy werewolf. He'd said he liked me, and that he wanted me here with him, and after all we'd _had sex_ (oh my God oh my God_ I had sex_) so probably kissing was no big deal after that. Right?

"Your heart's about to pound right out of your chest," Sam commented without opening his eyes.

"I hate not knowing what to do," I admitted.

He nuzzled the top of my head. I sighed and went even limper until he said, "I don't expect anything from you."

Furrowing my brow, I leaned away a little to examine his face. Eyes open now, he returned my gaze levelly. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want you to feel trapped. As if you owe me anything or should act a certain way or... anything like that, just because of earlier."

It took me a few minutes to process what he was telling me, but finally an aching sadness suffused me. He thought I cared that little about him. "Sam." I couldn't seem to stop touching him. My hand skimmed across his hair, his neck, his shoulder and chest. All my fears couldn't take away the rightness of our bodies against each other. "I didn't mean like that. I only meant, I didn't know if it was okay to kiss you without asking first or whatever. I don't feel _trapped._"

He blinked. "Oh." A slow smile spread across his face, dispelling the sadness instantly. "You can kiss me anytime you want. I want you to."

Well, that was new. No waiting for an invitation, no cautioning about sudden moves, no begging for a guerdon in honor of a special occasion. The surprise made me giggle, which in turn widened his smile until I angled up to press my mouth to his. Instantly, the hand that had been stroking my head moved to grip my hair at the nape of my neck, holding me steady as our lips parted. Humming with contentment, I pulled him closer. Maybe the best way to stop freaking out about having had sex was to just... do it again. That sounded like a good idea at the moment. By the time he rolled onto his back, taking me with him, I decided it was the _best _idea. His hands smoothed down my sides to rest lightly on my rear.

"Bella," he murmured, planting kisses across my jaw. I tightened my arms around him in response to the relief in his voice.

_Just because I'm terrified doesn't mean I'll leave, _I wanted to tell him, but if I said that then I'd have to explain why I was terrified and that wasn't someplace I was willing to visit just now. The tightness in my lungs eased under his touch. My mind started to work again, freed from the paralysis of shock. I tilted my head so his mouth could reach more skin and teased, "I can kiss you anytime I want? What if I want to kiss you when you're outside my window guarding me? Or what if you're in La Push and I'm in Forks? How will you know?"

"I'll give you a dog whistle." He sucked on the sensitive spot just below my ear. "My wolf's starting to like you better; it might actually respond."

I laughed. "Somehow I don't think it'll be as fun to kiss the wolf as it is the man."

"I'd definitely phase back first," he promised, still caressing me everywhere he could reach. "Bella?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"You feel _so _fucking good."

I blushed and burrowed my head into his neck. "I think I'm lucky you don't have much to compare me to lately."

Rolling back so that I lay beside him, he brushed my hair away from my face and kissed my temple. "I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one."

That made me laugh again. "Oh yes. You're just so _lucky _to have scored the crazy-ass ex-girlfriend of a vampire who hears voices and drinks too much and has an insane _other _vampire out for her blood. It's, like, almost as lucky as when you got to turn into a wild animal against your will!"

Sam just smiled and kissed my chin. "Maybe I'm lucky to have the Queen of Right in my bed. Doesn't that make me a prince or something?"

"Mm, no, that just makes you a social climber." _Unless we got married, _I almost added out of an automatic desire to show off what I knew. I barely remembered to stop myself from saying it. "But, as your queen, I think I should commend you on a job well done."

"That's better than being a prince," he replied. His hands wouldn't stop moving; they covered every inch of my skin he could reach. He seemed to have gotten over a lot of his fear, though his fingertips on me remained very, very light. "I don't—" But then he cut himself off, slightly shamefaced.

"You don't what?" It was so fun to be allowed to kiss him and touch him as much as I liked, almost like I had equal rights to his body as I did to my own. Were his nipples as sensitive as mine? I ducked down to see, flicking my tongue over the tip of one. He shuddered and tightened his grip for a second. Wow. That was cool.

"I don't want you to go home. I like having you here. Where I can keep you so much safer. And warmer; you're always cold."

"I love being here with you," I told him honestly. "If I could have my way, I'd stay forever—" Oh shit. Jeez, why was this stuff so hard? It was like walking on a tightrope, and my balance was poor enough on solid ground. "No, I don't mean like, um, permanently, as if you—"

Sam breathed out a chuckle. "Relax, Your Majesty. I know what you mean. It's kind of hard to upset me with the idea of commitment, you know."

Thinking about that, I kissed his chest and continued up to his neck. Sam's entire world was made of commitment—commitment he hadn't sought out. "I don't want to be an obligation to you. I guess I probably am anyway, huh?"

"No." He put his arms on either side of me and looked down, expression dead serious. "Not since that first night, out in the woods." Dropping a kiss on my nose, he went on, "Not when I sent Paul after you to that party—" A kiss on my forehead. "Not when I stood outside Newton's for hours and listened to that Mike kid try to talk to you—" A kiss to my ear. "Not when I followed you down to Port Angeles." Finally, he kissed me on the mouth, and this time it felt like he didn't restrain his response, all burning lips and urgent tongue and restless hands gripping and pulling me close wherever he could. My head swam with happiness as I kissed him back. Breathing hard, he pulled away to tell me, "You aren't ever an obligation. You're someone I _choose._"

That revelation made me dizzy and melty all at once. Sam got so few choices in his life, and when he did... he chose me? "That... makes absolutely no sense, but it's massively flattering, so thank you."

He frowned. "No, you're wrong. It makes a lot of sense."

Before he could go on, my phone rang. Reaching across the bed, he handed it to me. "It's your dad."

I gulped and hit the green key. "Hi, Dad."

"Isabella Marie Swan, where in the goddamn hell are you?"

"I told you in my voice mail!" I sat up and pushed my hair back. Sam wrapped the sheet around me as I went. "I'm in La Push."

Charlie's voice subsided to a flat, dangerous monotone. "I told you to be back home by ten."

"Oh." Oops. Had he really said that? I tried to remember his exact words and failed. "I thought you said to call you by then."

"Well, it's great that you gave yourself that wide four-minute window."

I flinched at the unaccustomed sarcasm. "I'm sorry. I was sleeping." _With a werewolf._

"I called Alexis' house. She said you left last night. So where am I going to come get you from? I'm about to lose my damn mind here, Bella."

I winced against the pain as his raised voice reverberated through my aching head. "I know. I'm really sorry. But I promise I'm safe."

"Where. Are. You."

My first instinct was to lie, but I stopped myself with a frown. When had being untruthful become my default response to any question from my dad? I was eighteen, and Sam was a good guy. There was no reason not to be honest. "I ran into Sam last night." Mostly honest. "Sam Uley, you know? He saw that I was in pretty bad shape and invited me back to his house to sleep it off." Okay, somewhat honest about generalities. "We've been kind of talking sometimes, and I wasn't having fun with the other girls, so I decided to come with him."

"Are you two going out?"

My jaw dropped and I cringed, glancing at Sam in spite of myself. He leaned back on his hands, making no pretense of not listening to my conversation. "I think maybe we are."

"We are," Sam said firmly, loudly enough for Charlie to hear.

A thrill shot through me at his certainty—wow, once he made a decision, he _made _it. "We are," I repeated with a dopey grin in Sam's direction.

Charlie went quiet for a full minute. I tried to remember to breathe. Finally, he said, "I guess you could do worse. He's a good man."

Sam kissed my cheek and whispered, "I'm going to go check on Jared and Paul," then rose to leave.

"He's a really good guy," I agreed with Charlie. Sam shook his head with a smile and headed out.

"We'll talk about this when you get home." To my surprise, Charlie didn't sound angry at all anymore. "Call me when you leave the rez."

"I will. Thanks, Dad." I hung up and stared at the screen. I really should have apologized for the way I'd spoken to him the night before. That was embarrassing just to think about. _I'll do it when I get home. _I bent to grab my jeans and pull them on.

Sam came back in, saying, "They're fine, but Paul caught wind of the redhead on the north boundary. She didn't cross the line. I'd guess she's biding her time till you leave here." He picked up my t-shirt off the floor to offer to me. I accepted it and put it on, using the action to try and hide my involuntary shivers. Sam saw, though, and sat down next to me, pulling me into his lap.

I knew he had no intention of actually taking off my clothes again, so I was able to relax when he kissed me. This time he seemed to be focusing on the act of kissing itself rather than going somewhere with it: his tongue stroked against mine without any urgency, and his hands traveled restlessly across my back but didn't move to any more personal territory. Safety was something I'd avoided in recent weeks at all costs, but right now I felt completely safe and I _loved _it. Looping my arms around his neck, I kissed him back, and let the softness of his mouth and the scent of his skin make every problem I'd ever had recede into the background.

Eventually, though, petty concerns like breathing interfered with the fun. Sam kissed the top of my head and set me down beside him, then stood. "You need to eat."

I nodded. "Sure. I'll make breakfast."

Concern had his eyes narrowing. "By the way, when was the last time you ate anything? Like, really ate."

Avoiding his gaze, I rubbed a miniscule spot on my jeans with my thumbnail. "The last time I was here."

"Bella." He crouched in front of me. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, okay? I don't think you look bad. But you're so damn thin I'm afraid I'll break you if I'm not careful. More afraid than I would be otherwise, I mean." After a long pause, he added, "I'm worried about you not eating, and I'm worried about how much you throw up, too. I'm not a doctor, but it sounds like anxiety to me. Even if you don't want to go see someone for… other stuff… a GP would be able to prescribe medicine that might help."

How humiliating. "GP?"

"General practitioner."

I nodded, but my thoughts had flown to the night of Lauren's party, when Sam had looked at the medicine from my purse and instantly known what it was. "Did you want to be a doctor?"

His head jerked back a little with surprise. "Yes. But then…" He trailed off.

It wasn't too hard to figure out. "But then you phased… and you couldn't leave."

"With vampires so close to the rez, the elders didn't feel comfortable allowing me to go to college once I graduated." The words were flat, but his eyes blazed.

Angrily, I protested, "They shouldn't have kept you here if you didn't want to stay! They would have been fine. The Cullens never hurt anyone!"

He raised his eyebrows. "I know of at least one person they hurt."

The assertion forced me to drop my gaze, nodding in acknowledgement. "Yeah. But that was different."

Sam seemed to be choosing his words with great care. "They had friends who would come to visit them, sometimes for weeks at a time. Friends with red eyes. Because of a _stupid _treaty our grandfathers signed with the Cullens, I'm not allowed past a certain point off the rez when I'm phased if they're in residence. So I would go in human form to check it out." I swallowed a gasp of horror at this news, but he didn't notice. "Once, I heard the doctor remind their visitors not to hunt nearby, but who knows what they consider 'nearby?' It's not like they're overly concerned about people. After all, they knew that being here was what triggered our transformations, but they came back anyway." Bitterness rang through the last sentence, but he went silent. When he continued, he was back to a calm, even tone. "I had to stay. The elders were right. Just because a responsibility chooses you, instead of you volunteering to undertake it, doesn't mean you should try to duck it."

"Even if you have to give up all your goals?" I couldn't fathom this. "Even if you have to just… I don't know, wave goodbye to all your dreams?"

"People give up dreams every day," Sam responded matter-of-factly. "The smart ones find new dreams to replace the old."

If all my plans for my life had been so thoroughly destroyed by accidental duty and others' thoughtlessness, would I be able to accept it this calmly? He was _so amazing. _I wanted to tackle him all over again. Instead, I settled for meeting his gaze and stroking his leg. "Okay, so, what new dreams did you find, Sam?"

He put his hands on my knees and rubbed with his thumbs, looking as if he couldn't make a decision. Finally, he told me, "Lately, when I fall asleep, mostly I dream about you. More than Paul; more than Jared." A pause. "More than Emily."

There was that melting sensation again. At this rate I would turn into a puddle on his floor any minute. I kissed him before my lips could dissolve.

Sam didn't say much while I made breakfast, just moving to help whenever he saw I needed it, but when we sat down he took a third of what I'd given him and put it on my plate. I gulped. It looked like _so much._

"Just try," he said, caressing my hair back from my face. "I know it's hard."

Of course. He did know. Obediently, I shoveled up some eggs and ate them. To my surprise I didn't have any problem swallowing. Maybe orgasms were good for the anxiety thing. To distract him from my eating in case he was going to make a big deal about it, I asked, "You need to leave soon, right?" I couldn't keep all the disappointment out of my words, but I didn't feel upset. This was what life with Sam would be like. Responsibility would always supersede everything else.

"I should." He didn't look happy about it, either. That was something. He finished long before I could and got up with his plate to walk to the sink. I kept eating while he cleaned. Once I was done, I helped wrap up the task.

Like he had before, Sam walked me to my truck, but this time along the main road since it didn't matter who saw me. After I opened the door, I sat on the seat and swiveled to face him. "I wish I didn't have to go." It wasn't as bad as last time, though. This time, I knew he wanted to be with me.

"Me too. If I could hide you in my room forever, and it wouldn't be creepy as hell, I'd do it." We both laughed at that. He reached to cradle my face in his hand, rubbing my cheekbone with his thumb. "I'll come see you. Even if your dad grounds you for life, he can't keep a werewolf out of the house."

"Good."

Sam moved closer to stand between my legs and kissed me softly. "Don't be scared."

I hugged him. "I'll try."

"Well..." He glanced over my shoulder and smiled. "This should help."

A second later, I heard a thump and jerked around to see Jared lounging, in human form, in the bed of my truck. "I feel bad about how often you need to babysit me," I told them both, but I couldn't keep the relief out of my voice.

"It's all for the same reason we exist: to catch vampires." Heedless of Jared's wondering eyes, Sam kissed me again and then stood back, waiting for me to swing my legs in before closing the door. "I'll see you soon."

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Jared making himself comfortable. "Wake me up when we get to the edge of town," he said with a grin, lying back and closing his eyes.

I turned forward again and peered out the windshield. "You should get in. It's going to rain."

"Nah, I'll be fine."

Shrugging, I pulled out. With a final wave to Sam, I turned onto the main road heading back to Forks. It wasn't until I pulled out my phone to call Charlie that I realized I still had an idiotically sappy smile spread all over my face.


	13. Being Honest

**Mad love to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart for all their work in pre-reading and beta'ing this stuff. If I were Edward, I'd be greasing their windows and watching them sleep because I looooove them. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song for this chapter was "Love Comes" by The Posies.**

**# # #**

When I got to the edge of town, I knocked on the back window and said, "We're here; hold on a second and I'll…" But when I glanced in the rear view mirror, it was to see the truck bed deserted. "Pull over," I finished anyway.

By the time I pulled up into our driveway, the post-sex contentment had completely worn off and I was a twitching bundle of terrified nerves. Just because Charlie hadn't seemed apoplectic on the phone didn't mean anything. Maybe he'd just been quiet because he knew Sam could hear him, or something. Maybe I was about to get banned from life itself until graduation. Oh God.

I was so upside-down that I almost knocked on the door before I remembered I could let myself in.

Charlie was waiting inside the living room, seated in his favorite chair, watching a pre-game show for college football. When I shut the door behind me, he muted the volume and set down the remote on the arm, gesturing to the couch. "C'mon and sit down, honey."

Okay. He wasn't pacing, the TV was on, and his gun belt was nowhere to be seen, plus he called me "honey." Maybe the end of the world wasn't approaching, after all. I still drew near with caution, sitting down on the edge of the couch cushion gingerly and forcing myself to meet his gaze.

Charlie looked me over from head to toe, and then did it all over again, sharp cop's eyes taking in every detail. Something made his expression flicker, but he wiped it blank again before he said, "You look happy."

I couldn't stop the unsteady smile I felt spreading across my face. "I _am _happy." It was true. I still had a rock in my chest where my heart should be, and I couldn't even think about eating anything again, ever, and I knew Victoria was out there just waiting for Sam, Jared and Paul to slip up, but I was _happy._

"Is it because of Sam?" he wanted to know, looking back at the TV screen, but he didn't fool me. He was really watching for my reaction.

I nodded, feeling my face turn hot but still smiling.

"Is he the one who's been getting alcohol for you?"

Whoops. Smile gone. "No. I don't think Sam drinks at all." Of course, judging by the contents of his fridge, he also barely ate. I wondered idly what I could do to help with that, or if he even wanted help with it.

"So he just… what, ran into you? At whatever place you really were last night?"

Gulping, I looked down at my folded fingers and shook my head. "I know that's what I said, but really… I just wanted to see him. So I went to his house."

Charlie turned his head to gaze at me fully. "You've been there before?"

I nodded again.

He shrugged a little, kicking the recliner open and leaning back with beer in hand. "Huh. Guess there's a whole 'nother life of yours I don't know anything about."

That was true on so many levels that I didn't know how to respond, so I remained silent and still.

Charlie sighed deeply. "That's fair enough. I didn't know much about your life before you came here, either, so I guess you could say this is payback."

His words made me frown. "I'm not doing anything to get some sort of revenge, Dad."

He shrugged again. "I know you say 'Charlie' behind my back, Bella. Why don't you just go ahead and make it official? Call me that to my face."

For no reason at all, a huge lump appeared in my throat and tears suddenly swam in my eyes. "I don't want to," I croaked.

That got his attention again. "So… what do you want here, Bella? Do you want a dad, or do you want a roommate? Because I'd like to be your dad, but if you're bound and determined to ignore everything I say to you, then it seems like it's kind of pointless for me to keep running into that brick wall."

I didn't know what to say. How could I explain it to him? _The werewolf I'm in love with happened across his imprint last night and seemed to forget all about me, and it hurt so bad that I lost sight of the fact I care about what you think. _Yeah. That wouldn't fly. Choosing my words with caution, I said, "I was… really upset last night. Because of something else. I'm sorry I was so rude. I promise it won't happen again. And I won't sneak around again either." That, I could say with a clean conscience. Now that Sam and I were together, it was even more out of the question for me to do things to endanger myself when it also meant endangering Paul, Jared and him. Plus, now I knew that sex could out-do any other source of comfort. I almost giggled at the thought of mentioning that to Charlie. _I promise I won't go out and get drunk again because I'm going to be screwing my new boyfriend like there's no tomorrow. _That probably wouldn't go over so well, either.

Charlie studied my face long and hard. At last, he nodded and replied, "All right. You're not grounded. It didn't seem to help you make any better decisions and that was the goal of the punishment, so I'm going to think about things. From now on, though, if you want to hang out with friends, I'd like it to be here. And I'd like to actually talk to Sam sometime."

"Should I hide your shotgun?" I joked nervously.

Charlie chuckled. "No. Like I said, he's a good man. I just want to have a conversation with him that doesn't involve me panicking over you." Before I could answer, my phone rang. With a guilty glance at Charlie, I dug it out of my purse. He spoke as I was about to hit decline. "You can get that. I'd be willing to bet it's Jessica Stanley. She called the land line twice while you were gone."

I saw as I lifted the phone that he was right. "Hi, Jess."

"Oh em eff gee, Bella, you will not _believe _what happened after you left last night. It was so bizarre, like, I was going, 'am I in an episode of a soap opera here?' and then I didn't know I said it out _loud _but everybody got mad at me and I was just _sitting there _and I—hey, can I come over? Are you grounded again?"

"No, I'm not. Hold on." I covered the phone with one hand as Charlie rose. "Dad, can Jess come over here? Oh, are you going somewhere?"

He ambled over to the kitchen table and set down his beer, picking up the keys to his cruiser. "I'm headed up to La Push to pick up Billy so he can watch the game. I should've had you get him but I wasn't thinking straight at the time. Yeah, sure, Jessica's welcome."

"You can come over," I said to Jessica. "Bye Dad," I added as he walked out.

"Oh thank God. This sort of story has to be relayed in person. I'll be over as soon as I put on my makeup."

Shaking my head, I said goodbye. Only Jessica would think she needed to put on her makeup to come over and hang out with me. Now that I knew we were having a couple of people coming over, I wanted to clean a little. First, though, I had to shower.

It wasn't until I was in the warm water naked that I really looked at myself.

Oh, my _God. _I hadn't even shaved my _legs_ in three days. That had probably been the last time I washed my hair, too. And I was, just as Sam had said, way too thin. I had just been naked with a guy and I looked like an escapee from an eating disorder treatment program. How the hell had he been able to keep from laughing at me?

Taking deep breaths, I poured shampoo out and started massaging it into my hair. Okay, Bella. Don't freak out. If he didn't say anything, it might not have been just because he was being polite. It wasn't like he'd been getting any better offers lately so maybe he'd just taken what was available? No. No, that wasn't like Sam. I knew that much. Thank everything, ever, that he was Alpha and Jared and Paul couldn't see his memories the way he could theirs. I couldn't begin to fathom the horror of Paul seeing me in this condition.

I backed into the spray and watched the bubbles drip down my jutting ribs and hips, circling around my toes—unadorned now that no one had looked at them in months. Did I have nail polish anymore? I would have to check. If not, Jessica surely would. It was really nice to have a friend who was a girl. A girl who knew how to be mostly normal and didn't mind that I wasn't. Maybe she could tell me if it was awful that I had slept with a guy when my legs weren't shaved. I'd shaved before I visited her house the last time… I rolled my eyes at myself and put on conditioner before I pulled the cap off the razor. That would involve telling Jessica that I had sex with Sam and I wasn't sure I could handle the reaction to that news.

Once I was dressed, I busied myself cleaning the bathroom and my own room, and then swept the floors in the kitchen. Just as I thought, _how much makeup is she putting on, anyway? _the doorbell rang and I went to answer. Jessica swept in, already talking, before I could even say "Hello."

"Holy. Shit. Bella. Okay, after your little walk on the Poe side last night things got interesting. Those guys followed us to Lexi's house because she forgot her phone on the bridge, or at least that's what they said, and yeah, one of them had her phone but I bet he totally lifted it out of her pocket or whatever because the only time I've _ever _seen Lexi put her phone down was when she was about to go to sleep. So they get there, and Lexi invites them in, swears her mom won't mind, and before I know it they've busted into the liquor cabinet and we're all in the pool again.

"We're all swimming around and that guy Sean, you know, the one I liked?" Noting the past tense, I nodded. Plopping down on the couch, Jessica continued, "Well, he's making his move in the deep end and I'm thinking, okay, this might be fun, we've never gone out but there's no harm in a test drive, right? I pull him into one of the spare bedrooms and we're going at it and I get him naked and oh. My. God, Bella, his wang is like a fucking shepherd's crook, like, it's pointing the way to heaven and I'm trying not to laugh because, holy shit, it has to be a circumcision gone wrong or something, and it's not like he can _help _it, but for God's sake, I am _way _too shallow to ever let that thing try to bend its way in. So while I'm trying to keep my legs crossed without letting him notice that's what I'm doing, all of a sudden I hear this _massive _noise and it turns out Lexi's dad came back from Germany early and he was having an absolute shit fit about the scene in the pool. I sneaked out the front door while he was flipping out, and Angela ran out a few minutes later so we drove off. Lauren _still _hasn't texted me to let me know what happened—she had her own car so I didn't wait for her. Then we went back to my place and fell asleep. Angela left right before I called you."

I stared, open-mouthed, for a couple seconds, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

Jessica didn't seem to notice. "So, are you guys Jewish or whatever?" she asked, looking around.

I laughed. "No, why?"

"Because you have _no _Christmas decorations out. It's really weird."

"Oh." I thought for a moment. "How long is it till Christmas again?"

Jessica sighed in exasperation. "Bella. It's in just a little over two weeks. You must've noticed the decorations at Newton's at least."

"I did," I said defensively. "I was just saying to Mike yesterday that I should do something along those lines, but I don't know where Charlie—where my dad keeps that stuff."

"Well, we can start with the attic before we look for a treasure map or whatever. You've got an attic, right?"

I'd forgotten, but, "Yeah, we do."

We grabbed a couple of flashlights (Charlie always made sure we had three Maglites with fresh batteries in one of the kitchen drawers) and headed upstairs to pull down the attic ladder. Once we were in the musty rafters, we let the flashlights' beams play across various dust-covered boxes.

"I doubt Ch—my dad's decorated since my mom left him." I carefully toed my way across one wide plank, holding onto another overhead for balance. "And I have no idea how long it's been since he fixed anything up here, so you might want to avoid the plywood and just stay on the beams." Halfway across, I found a bare bulb and screwed it into its base, allowing stark light to pour over the covered boxes and old furniture.

Jessica followed warily in my footsteps. "If it's been however many years—"

"Eighteen, almost."

"—then it's got to be underneath and behind everything else."

Accordingly, we started moving white drapery covers and looking beneath them. Half of the boxes weren't labeled, which made for an interesting challenge. Before we'd looked inside more than three or four, I heard the front door open and my dad call, "Bells?"

"We're in the attic!" I replied, turning toward the ladder.

"I brought Jake back with us too. Okay if he comes up?"

I glanced back at Jessica, who shrugged. "Sure!"

A few seconds later, a familiar smiling face popped through the open hatchway, followed by the rest of Jacob Black. "Hey Bella," he said, and then looked past me as I waved. "Hi."

"Hey," Jessica replied, and at the note in her voice I shot her an amused glance. "I think I've seen you up at First Beach sometimes. I'm Jessica."

"I'm Jacob." He stooped as he walked toward us—he'd grown a few inches since the last time I'd seen him—unless that had been Thanksgiving? I couldn't remember who I'd spoken to then. I had been too busy thinking about Edward's voice. "What're you guys doing?"

"Bella's been a total slacker in the Christmas decoration department, so we're trying to fix that now. But first we have to find the decorations, if there are any. If not, I guess we're going to the dollar store." Jessica gave him an arch look from beneath her eyelashes while leaning to make sure he got a good view of her cleavage. I could barely keep from laughing out loud. "Wanna look?"

Jacob swallowed hard and answered, "Sure," in a voice that narrowly escaped cracking.

His awkwardness faded fast, though. He was too confident to be left speechless. Soon he and Jessica were chattering away while they opened boxes, rifled through their contents, closed them again, and stacked them against the opposite wall. They were both sure to include me so that I didn't feel left out, but I liked listening to them so I didn't say much. Plus I had a lot on my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about the morning, and the look on Sam's face when he moved inside me, and the way he felt when I—

"Whoa," Jessica breathed, and at the unfamiliar reverent tone I focused on her. She held a flowing white dress in her hands. There were a few dark yellow stains where the artificial flowers had pressed against the ivory lace overlay, but it was still in decent condition. "Bella, is this your mom's wedding dress?"

With a sigh, I tilted my head, examining the gown as Jessica stood and held it to her front. "Probably. Renée wouldn't have wanted to pass on the bad karma from a failed marriage, but she wouldn't have wanted to take the dress with her either."

"It's really beautiful." Jessica ran her hand down the shimmering fabric, and then folded it up and put it back into its box with obvious reluctance. "Good thing it's packed with mothballs."

"Hey, I found a Christmas tree!" Jacob triumphantly pulled the long white box from beneath the others. "Awesome. I wonder if it still looks okay or if all the needles have fallen out."

"Why don't you carry it down and we can set it up and find out?" Jessica suggested.

"Sure, sure." He headed down the ladder steps, dragging the box with him.

Jessica waited until we could hear him descending the stairs before turning to me and whispering, "I bet _his _dick's straight as an arrow. No botched circumcision there."

I burst into barely restrained giggles. "Jess!"

"I know he's jailbait, but he said he's turning sixteen next month and after that it's on. Holy shit. I wonder if he's even circumcised at all. Do Quileute guys do that?"

I shrugged, popping open another box. Just old school papers of Charlie's. "I don't know. It's not exactly a topic for dinner conversation. Sam's not, though, so maybe Jacob's—"Finally, my brain caught up with my tongue, and I squeezed my eyes shut. "Oops."

"Ohmigod."

Still wincing, I turned to look at her incredulous, open-mouthed face. "Jess—"

"You are telling me _everything, _Bella." As Jacob's heavy footfalls approached once more, she amended, "Well, soon. I won't make you give me all the details while my own personal virgin icon's around—"

"You think he is?" I asked, surprised. He seemed so sure of himself.

"Duh, Bella, he practically has a 'V' stamped on his forehead. I'll fix that if he lets me. Later. Oh wow, look!" She pulled out a glittering garland and a box of ornaments. "Jackpot!"

"Oh cool, you found some stuff," Jacob said, climbing back up to join us.

"It's in pretty good condition, too," Jessica noted, pulling out more stuff. "Hey." Standing, she sauntered up to Jacob, holding something behind her back. "I think we should test this and see if it works still."

"Is it Christmas lights?" he asked, trying to look around her. "I can plug them in downstairs."

"Nope." With a self-satisfied smile, she produced her treasure: mistletoe. "You're going to have to hold it up, though. I'm too short to get it over your head."

Jake's eyes went wide for an instant, and then he grinned. "Shouldn't be a problem." Instead of taking the mistletoe, he gently grasped her wrist and pulled her closer, holding her arm up so that she was on tiptoes, leaning against him. Ducking beneath the plastic berries, he asked, "Better?"

"Perfect," she replied, and tugged his head down with her free hand so she could kiss him. I rolled my eyes and turned to look for more boxes marked "Christmas" in Renée's looping handwriting near where the others had been found. There were four. Once Jessica had reassured herself as to Jacob's kissing abilities ("Wow," she mouthed at me behind his back as he retreated with two of the boxes, to which I whispered, "technically that was _illegal"_) I begged her opinion on how awful I had been in this morning with Sam.

"Well, did he seem happy?" she asked after I finished mourning my hair and everything else I had done wrong.

"Yeah." I couldn't help but grin at the memory.

"And he came, right?"

I gasped and blushed. "Jess!" She gave me a _what? _look. "Yeah, of course he did."

"So, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say he didn't give a shit about your unshaved legs. I mean, like, don't make it a habit or anything but for your first time with a guy it sounds pretty damn amazing."

Jacob came back then. We carried everything down to the living room and started setting up.

Billy demanded a wreath for the coffee table, so we laid out two with freshly washed-and-wiped decorative candles in the center of them. The tree was in decent shape—Charlie said it was only a couple of years old, a hand-me-down from the Clearwaters when Sue got tired of seeing his barren living room every December. We found a huge wreath that was all right for the front door, once Jessica gently uncrushed the ribbon and rearranged the fake foliage. I would have written off the insane tangle of Christmas lights as a loss, but Jacob managed to extract strands and replace light bulbs at what had to be record speed ("He's _good with his hands, _Bella," Jessica hissed into my ear) before he found a ladder. The three of us lined the eaves outside with a mismatch of colored, blue, and white icicle lights, but by the time Jessica finished arranging them in her approved order they looked pretty.

"You did a good job getting those up there," she complimented Jacob when we stood on the street and surveyed our handiwork in the gathering dark.

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but he looked pretty pleased with himself. "It's way easier than putting parts in the Rabbit."

"Maybe I could come up and help sometime with that," Jessica suggested. "Your hands are so big; it's got to be hard to maneuver under the hood."

Jacob flushed a little but said, "Yeah, that'd be cool."

"And Bella's going to be going up to La Push a lot more now, so I bet we can carpool." At Jacob's questioning look, she explained, "You know Sam, right? They're a thing, I guess."

"Really? Sam Uley?" He looked unsettled. "Um. Okay. He's kind of—sorry, never mind."

Jessica made sure there was no awkward pause. "Bella? Do you have cookie dough? I'm starving."

"I have everything we need for peanut butter cookies," I replied after doing a quick mental inventory. "Actually, I should get started on dinner, I guess. You want to stay?"

Jessica looked like I'd given her a present. "You bake _and_ you cook? Holy shit, let's move to Massachusetts and get married."

I laughed. "Sure thing. If Sam doesn't work out you're my backup plan."

"Excellent." She kissed me on the corner of my mouth and grabbed Jacob's hand. "Let's go in. Hey, Mr. Mechanic, do any of your mad skills transfer to the kitchen?"

It took Jacob a moment to respond because he was staring dazedly at the two of us. "Uh... I can follow instructions."

With two willing helpers, it didn't take long to throw together some cookie dough as well as spaghetti with meat sauce. Just as I set the timer for the first batch of cookies, my cell phone rang. I sighed when I read the display. Renée.

"I'd better talk to her," I said to Jessica and Jacob, opening the back door and stepping out into the cold. I answered as I drew it shut behind me and sat on the concrete steps. "Hey, Mom."

"Oh, hi there baby. "

"I'm—"

"You would not _believe _the day Phil and I have had. First the airline lost our luggage, and they're not going to get it to us till tomorrow—and I'm in Portland, it's such a huge change from Phoenix—"

"You're in Oregon?" I sat up straighter. "Are you coming up?" It was a four-hour drive, but maybe we could meet halfway.

A long pause. "Um… Well, actually, baby, that doesn't work for me. Phil's got a banquet thing tonight, kind of a meet-and-greet for this other coaching position he's trying to get, and there are some important people who'll be showing up, and I'm sure I'll be exhausted tomorrow from the late night. Plus after that we have so much shopping to get done—no sales tax! It'll be awesome—and then between that and the jet lag I just won't feel like making such a long drive."

I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. It wasn't as if it would have been fun to see her so what was the point in getting upset? "Oh. Okay."

"So anyway! You interrupted before I could finish telling you about my day. So we get to the hotel, and they've totally screwed up the reservation, like, I had specifically requested a smoking room and they're sitting there telling me that they only have non-smoking, but in the end I just told them it was fine and I'm smoking in the bathroom with the fan on. It's too damn cold to go outside, just shitty weather. If we move here I'm going to have to shop all the time just to keep from going nuts. At least the mini-bar's well–stocked. Phil and I've been drinking since we got in. I don't know how you stand it."

"Yeah." I picked at a frayed end of one of my shoelaces.

"So what are you up to? Any Christmas parties?"

That made me perk up a little. Finally I could tell her something that would make her happy with me. "I have a couple of friends over. We're going to have dinner. And guess what, I'm—"

"Oh God, baby, please tell me that whatever you're making isn't riddled with cheese and red meat fat and everything else disgusting that you love to make. For fuck's sake, it's like you _want _to weigh three hundred pounds by the time you're thirty. Listen, I just read this fantastic book; it's called _The Sonoma Diet. _I'll send it to you. It can be your Christmas present!"

I tried to breathe, but my lungs were tightening. "Mom, I'm not fat."

"Not _yet. _And to be honest, baby, we both know that you always could've stood to lose ten pounds. Don't you want boys to ask you out? I never said anything when you were in Phoenix but I always thought maybe that was the reason that you never could score a date back then."

"I have dates now," I choked out. "Sort of." Did sleeping with a guy count as dating? Well, he said it did. A couple of tears dripped off my chin onto my knees. I started; I hadn't even realized I was crying. The cold of the evening seemed to frost over my bones.

She prattled on as if she hadn't heard. Maybe my voice was too faint by this point for it to carry to the phone. "You know what you're like? You're like those little birds you see in the desert, you know? They just run when they see you coming at them but they never actually fly until they absolutely, positively have to. I used to look at you and just go, 'holy shit, where the fuck did I go wrong,' it's like I raised you to be a hermit when we both know that wasn't the case, and you don't want to end up _alone, _baby, and manless. Do you? I mean, even when I saw you in Forks you were looking a little chunky around the thighs. That's not anything that couldn't be handled with the right pair of jeans but think about when a guy sees you _naked, _assuming that ever happens with you living in Bumfuck—"

A hot hand closed over mine where it gripped the phone. Looking up, I saw Sam, dressed in tank top and shorts, face grim. "Hang up," he said.

I shook my head and sobbed, "I can't," in an undertone while Renée kept talking.

"Yes, you can." He crouched in front of me and buried his other hand in the hair at the nape of my neck. I relaxed a little as the warmth radiated into my skin. "Want me to help?"

I couldn't nod, but I allowed him to rotate my wrist and hit the end call button. "I'm going to turn it off now, okay?" he asked, sitting next to me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

Leaning into him, I sighed, "Okay."

Sam handed the phone back after he shut it down. "You can turn it back on when you're ready to deal with her."

"That might be never," I feebly joked, trying to wipe away the tears that just wouldn't stop spilling from the corners of my eyes.

He kissed the top of my head. "Fine with me."

After a moment of trying to resist the urge, I gave in and climbed into his lap, resting my head on his chest. He tensed for an instant, and then relaxed, holding me steady. "I missed you." Sure, it had only been a few hours, but who cared? I wanted him with me all the time, even though I knew it was selfish.

Putting one finger under my chin, he tilted it up so he could kiss me. "I missed you too." He cuddled me close as I pressed my face to his neck and added, rough-voiced, "Everything she said was wrong." I wrapped my arms around him. "All of it."

I couldn't talk about it, so instead I changed the subject. "Can you come in for dinner?" Sam didn't move or speak. I leaned back to look at his face, but couldn't read his expression. "You don't have to if you don't want to." Since it was so close, I kissed his cheek, and then I couldn't stop, kissing a line down to his collarbone before nuzzling him there. I'd spent so much time running away from what I was feeling during the past few months that I almost couldn't comprehend what I felt now: serenity. For the first time in ages, I didn't want to escape my life or what was happening around me, and I had Sam to thank.

His hands stroked my hair, wrapping the ends around his fingers. "I want to," he answered finally. "Let me get my shoes. They're out past the tree line."

I stood and waited while he disappeared and reappeared seconds later, shoes in hand. After he ducked to put them on, I grabbed his hand. "Come on. Charlie said he wanted to talk to you anyway. At least this way there'll be witnesses."

Sam chuckled. "Good plan." I opened the door and drew him inside.


	14. Marking Time

_**A/N: Kisses in inappropriate places to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart for pre-reading and beta'ing my stuff. (HoochieMomma even went so far as to beta it TWICE. It's a good thing we will be married soon, because that is true love, my friends.)**_

_**For those of you who were O_o about Jake and Jessica, and who either didn't review or to whom I failed to pimp this story, I highly, HIGHLY recommend the o/s "Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere," by Jacina night feather. It's in my favorites, or you can copy/paste ****www(.)fanfiction(.)net(/)s(/)6207294(/)1(/)**** and remove the parentheses. It's J/B but there's a lot of Jess in it and I never would have thought of a J/J pairing if she hadn't written her story.**_

_**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song for this chapter is "And You Give" by Matthew Barber.**_

_**# # #**_

When I walked in with Sam, all conversation stopped as everybody's eyes redirected toward us. Sam seemed unaffected, simply saying, "Let me wash up and I'll help you," and releasing his hand from mine. As he walked to the sink, I noticed Billy exchanging a meaningful glance with him.

"Um, Dad, Sam caught a ride down here and I was wondering if he could stay for dinner?" I said, to get Charlie's gaze off my boyfriend.

"Sure, that's fine," he agreed. "Good to see you, Sam."

"You too, Chief." Sam turned away from the dishtowel he'd used to wipe his hands. "Especially since it's not in the middle of the night."

I assumed he was talking about when he had brought me out of the woods, until Charlie asked, "How _is _Allison?"

Sam shrugged. "Still living with her boyfriend."

Charlie grunted an acknowledgement and turned his attention back to the TV. A second later, he and Billy howled indignantly over a bad call.

"Uh, so, you remember Jessica, and of course you know Jacob," I said, since my friends seemed less than inclined to talk.

Sam smiled at Jessica. I watched a flush creep up her neck as he said, "I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to see you again."

"You too," she replied, regaining her customary social ease. "So like are all the guys up on the rez as huge as you and Jacob here? Because I gotta say, whatever they put in the water there should be required for the male population of Forks. Hell, for the entire country. It's for the good of women everywhere."

Sam's smile grew to a grin. "It's more genetics than anything else. Sorry."

"Then I guess I'll just have to figure out a way to get some of those genes for myself," she sighed with a significant glance in Jacob's direction.

Jacob grinned, completely unfazed. "You're the woman with the plan."

"Yes, I am, jailbait. Help me lay the silverware out?"

The two of them turned away to take care of the table setting while I dumped the spaghetti into the colander. Sam came over and stood next to me.

"It just occurred to me that I made the exact same thing tonight that I did when I spent the night time before last," I told him with a laugh. "I guess you'll just have to come over as often as possible so that I can prove I actually have more than one meal in my repertoire."

"Every chance I get." He smoothed my hair down my back. "But even if you made this all the time I'd still be happy."

I leaned into him for a second, and then asked, "Would you serve this onto the plates while I finish up the sauce? I think my dad and Billy will probably just eat in front of the TV but the rest of us can sit at the table like semi-normal people."

He obeyed while I taste-tested and added a bit more oregano and pepper. After I dished the sauce and put out the pre-washed salad greens on the off chance that someone would want something healthy, I called Billy and Charlie to the table. To my surprise, Charlie didn't go directly back to the game after picking up his plate. Instead, he spoke to Sam. "Still working with La Push P.D.?"

"They pay me for security stuff that they don't have the staff for," Sam responded. I almost choked on the mouthful of water I'd been about to swallow.

"That's good. Good for you." Charlie rested his hand on Sam's shoulder for a second before heading back to his chair in the living room. I nearly passed out from the shock. My dad, physically demonstrative? It was like he'd been taken over by a stranger.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," I whispered under cover of the TV noise and Jessica and Jacob's flirting. Jacob seemed determined to pretend that Sam wasn't there.

"We don't, really. We've kind of run into each other over the years." Sam reached over to my plate and used his knife to cut a third of my spaghetti away from the rest. "Here." He indicated the smaller portion. "Just try and eat that part. If you try to eat the whole thing you'll get overwhelmed."

He must have noticed I was just poking at my food again. I took a small bite, chewed, and swallowed, then looked to him for approval. He gave me a tiny smile and turned to his own food again.

Jessica left first, citing homework she needed to finish. Then Charlie took off with Billy and Jacob, leaving Sam and me alone to clean the kitchen without so much as a warning look. This whole new dad thing was going to take some getting used to.

I turned to Sam after I put the last pot in the drain board, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "That went better than I expected. Jacob was weird around you, though. Didn't you guys grow up together?"

"Yeah, but it freaked him out when I gave up my scholarship and stayed on the rez and nobody gave me a hard time. I heard him talking about it with his friends. I guess the council was kind of rough on his sister when she decided to get married instead of going to college. Plus, you gotta admit, Jared, Paul and I are pretty weird compared to the rest of the guys. Under normal circumstances, he'd be smart to avoid me."

I giggled. "I know better, though."

Instead of disagreeing, the way I half-expected, he gave me a smile as he leaned back against the counter. "Yeah. Come here?"

I was going to have to get used to Sam actually wanting me close, too. Crossing the room, I wrapped my arms around his waist and sighed, leaning into him. "You feel so good."

"You too." He bent to kiss me, and it was like the contact jolted every nerve ending in my body to life. Before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were digging into his shoulders, and I had one leg around his as if I were trying to climb him as my mouth opened beneath his own. Sam shuddered, his hands dropping to my ass to lift me higher, and then he must have moved faster than human speed because I was lying down on the living room carpet while he hovered over me.

Still kissing him frantically, I wriggled out of my hoodie, and then pulled his shirt up until he broke our lips' contact just long enough to take it off. I took advantage of the pause to take my own shirt off. When he saw my naked torso, he groaned and dug his fingers below my back to lift me to his mouth.

"Oooh," I whined as pleasure spread like wildfire through every cell in my body. "Sam, don't stop."

He didn't answer, just kept sucking and licking while one hand slid down to work the button and zipper on my jeans open. I angled my hips to help him get his hand inside. He groaned against my skin as his fingers found slick wetness. Gasping for breath, I pushed up against the pressure from his hand, but it wasn't enough.

"Want you inside," I moaned, reaching down to try to shove my jeans off as I kicked my shoes away. "Please?"

"Fuck yes," Sam replied, voice so rough I almost didn't recognize it as he took off his shorts. When I lay naked beneath him, he slid down, kissing my stomach and thighs as he went.

"What—" I started to ask nervously, but before I could finish the question, he pushed my legs apart and _licked _me. I tried to say something, but all that came out was, "God!" I could feel him chuckling as he did it again, and then his lips and tongue commanded my whole attention. I heard myself whimpering and begging, but I couldn't stop because it felt so _good, _better than anything I could have imagined. The heat and the pressure built uncontrollably until I grabbed his hair to push against him, and then cried out as I came. Before the tremors faded, Sam moved up and into me, muttering my name and cursing under his breath. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, pulling him farther inside, and that was all it took to send him into his orgasm with a sound that was practically a shout. Before his weight could press me into the floor, he rolled beside me and pulled me against him, propping his head up on one hand.

"Oh my _God,_" I said when I could speak. "Sam, that was—"

I stopped because he was staring at my thigh, and his expression reflected the opposite of the happy contentment I'd expected. Sitting up, I peered down to see five faint bruises where he'd clutched me that morning.

"Oh, no," I breathed. "Sam, no, it's okay. I bruise _so _easily." Fearfully, I looked up at his face. It had gone pale, and his breath rushed unsteadily from his mouth, quick, panicky exhalations that even scared me. "Sam, seriously, it's not your fault. Don't freak out. Look, I have a bruise here on my wrist from hitting the cabinet while I made dinner, and this one on my knee's from the faucet in the shower. It just happens to me all the time." He was shaking from head to toe, so I backed off a little, giving him some space. Searching for something that would steady him, I repeated the first thing I'd said when we woke up this morning, though it seemed to be years ago now. "Don't go."

The words called him back from whatever precipice on which he'd teetered. His eyes snapped back into focus on my face. Whatever he saw there made him call on that enforced calm I'd seen him utilize on so many other occasions. A couple of deep breaths, and then he answered me as he had all those hours past. "No."

Swamped with relief, I offered a tentative smile. After a second, he returned it.

_**December 15, 2005**_

The sound of my own screaming woke me. For a few minutes, I just stared at the ceiling and tried to catch my breath. It was always the same: Sam tearing Victoria off of me, my words ripping him apart, and our blood mixing before I absorbed it all. Why was my head so messed up_? _Hadn't I been able to hold everything together before I came to Forks? I should be better now, I should stop being such a freak, I should… A thought occurred to me and I found myself standing next to the window before I consciously made the decision to get out of bed.

Sam stood outside in human form.

Throwing open the window, I leaned out and asked, "Can you come up? Maybe jump in with the tree's help?"

He shook his head. "I'm not going to sneak into my girl's room like some kind of juvenile delinquent if I don't have to. Open the back door."

The thought made me cringe at the same time that "my girl" made sheer happiness explode in my chest. What if Charlie heard when I let Sam in? Then again, he hadn't seemed to wake up when I screamed my head off, so probably we were safe. I padded down the stairs and threw the deadbolt back. Sam was already waiting, of course. As soon as he closed the door behind him, I leaned against his chest. After a second—he was still hesitant about touching me most of the time, although he never ran away anymore—his arms closed around me. "That one sounded really bad."

"It was." Wrapping my arms around his neck, I sighed. "Stay with me? I can't go back to sleep now. If you can, I mean."

He surprised me by replying instantly. "I'll stay."

I drew back and gave him a quizzical look. "Really?"

"I can hear and smell her coming from in here, too," he explained, lowering one hand to grasp my own. "If you want me here, I'm here."

"I want you here," I managed to say, but I was so delighted I couldn't keep myself from grinning.

Seeing it must have made him happy in return, because a smile lightened his usually serious face. "I haven't seen you nearly enough the past couple of days."

Drawing him to the couch, I sat down and tugged on his hand. "C'mon. It's okay. I swear I won't jump you." I frowned as he settled next to me. His muscles were just as huge in proportion to the rest of him, but somehow they seemed… compressed against his bones, almost. "How long has it been since you ate?"

He shrugged. "I don't really keep track."

I pressed my lips together against the remonstrations that wanted to escape. It wouldn't do any good to get mad. When I was sure I wouldn't burst into a spontaneous scold, I asked, "Do you want some leftovers from dinner?"

Sam cocked his head, lifting his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

Shrugging, I got up. "Nothing. I'm gonna—"

He caught my arm and then let go instantly, looking stricken. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." I drifted closer and stroked his hair back. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. "It's okay. I'm fine. Not even a little bit hurt. What is it?"

It took him a minute to respond. When he did, his eyes stayed closed. "You're upset."

"Oh." I thought about how to answer, but in the end, as always with Sam, I opted for honesty. "Well, yeah. But not a lot or anything. I just wish you would take better care of yourself. I know you can't get sick but not eating has to mess with your attention span and stuff, plus it makes you tired… er… but I just get worried and then I get mad, but I know it doesn't make any difference and I don't want to act like your mom or anything—"

With a weary chuckle, he cut off the flood of words. "Trust me, the only time you remind me of Allison is when you're off your ass drunk." That stung a little, but he soothed it with, "And even then, it's not very much. 'Tireder?'"

I bit my lip to try to hide my smile. "The English language makes no sense. It sounded fine."

"It sounded adorable." He opened his eyes, and for the first time I noticed the deep circles beneath them. "I try, Bella. It's just… a lot to keep track of. I usually end up coming last because I know I'll be okay."

"And if you had to fight Victoria tonight? You'd be all right without having eaten in the past day? You'd be at your best?" I knew it was a low blow, but I was frightened for him, so I pressed, "You'd be able to keep me safe without any sort of weakness on your part? You'd be 'okay?'"

With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes again and shook his head. "I don't know."

I almost darted to kiss him, but thought better of it. The sudden contact when he wasn't prepared would probably terrify him. Instead, I leaned over him until he sensed my proximity and looked up at me. _Then _I kissed him. "I think I have an idea about how well it would go. You can barely stay awake right now. At least let me feed you. It's kind of fun to watch it all disappear in less than thirty seconds."

He smiled and kissed _me_. "I can't turn that down."

"Good."

After I reheated everything I could find and set it in front of him, he started eating. I moved to sit in the other seat, but he asked, "Where are you going?"

"To sit down?"

He reached to pull on my shirttail. "Sit here with me."

I giggled and obeyed, sitting on one of his legs. "There. Better?"

"Yes." Instead of eating, he pressed his face between my neck and shoulder and just stayed there, motionless, for a moment. When he spoke, his words buzzed against my skin. "Don't you have end-of-semester tests tomorrow? I'm not the only one who needs to eat to think clearly."

My chest tightened in a response so ingrained it was almost a reflex. "I'm trying. Don't be mad."

"I'm not." He splayed one big hand across my waist. The flesh from my ribs to my hipbone burned beneath his touch. "I understand. You know that."

The tension eased out of my lungs. I rubbed the back of his neck. "You're right."

He kissed my shoulder and sat up straight. "Here." Picking up a slice of tomato, he held it in front of me. "Just this one piece?"

Self-consciously, I took it from his hand and bit in. He ignored my actions and started eating one-handed, which let me swallow without choking since I wasn't being observed. Huh. That wasn't bad. It was actually pretty easy. Maybe the anxiety medicine I'd been prescribed was already starting to kick in. I picked up another slice.

Between the two of us, we finished all of the food in less than fifteen minutes. When I would have let him have the last chicken nugget, he fed it to me instead. I kissed his fingertips when I was done and asked, "Better now?"

He nodded and leaned his head on my shoulder again. He would never straight-up admit to weariness because of watching me, but I felt it seeping from every pore of his body. Frowning with concern, I picked up the dishes and took them to the sink.

"I'll help," he offered, but his voice was muffled. I turned to find out why and saw his head buried in his arms.

I tried to keep from laughing, but I wasn't entirely successful. "Um, no. I can keep my head up and you can't."

"Don't want you to clean up after me," he mumbled.

"You clean up after me pretty often," I retorted, turning on the faucet. "Figuratively speaking. We'll worry about the division of labor after the whole 'you protect me from the crazy vampire bent on revenge' thing is over, okay?"

"Mmph," was his only response.

After I had the dishes lined up in the drain board and the Tupperware soaking in the sink, I walked up to him and whispered, "Sam?"

He stood up instantly, eyes wide. "Yeah."

I smiled. Talk about adorable, _he_ was adorable, trying so hard to seem wide awake when obviously he was ready to pass out again at any second. "Come to the couch, at least, if you won't come to my bedroom."

Obediently, he grasped my outstretched hand and allowed me to draw him to the couch. He sat on one side, I curled up with my head on his lap, and neither of us woke up again until Charlie came downstairs in the morning.

When Charlie saw my face, he obviously decided not to comment, and offered Sam coffee instead.

_**December 21, 2005**_

This time, the screaming didn't wake me, but falling to the floor did. I'd figured out that sleeping on the couch resulted in a far lower occurrence of nightmares, so I ended up in the living room more nights than not. On the occasions when that wasn't enough to fight them off, though, I usually found Sam outside my door within twenty minutes. Or, on the nights when it was his turn to sleep outside my house, instantly. Like right now.

When I opened the door and let him in, it occurred to me to wonder about the other times. I asked him, "How do you know to come when I need you if you're not here?"

He went still for a moment, and then said, "It upsets Jared and Paul when they hear you scream about blood, and my name. I can sense that even in my sleep."

I wondered if what upset Emily intruded upon his dreams as well, but I was too afraid of his answer to risk the question. Instead, I let him pull me against his side and kiss my hair.

_**December 25, 2005**_

My phone woke me with a rousing chorus of "Jingle Bells." Jessica had installed the ringtone ("For God's sake, Bella, it's _free, _just pretend like you care it's a major holiday") but I hadn't expected it to serve as an alarm. With a muffled moan, I straightened, trying to stretch my neck out—it had a serious crick after sleeping on the couch all night.

Checking the screen, I frowned. It was a text from Angela. She'd told me herself that she hated her phone, so whatever it was must be important. Clicking "open message," I beheld a picture of a really old Honda Civic with a header of _MINE!_

I laughed and texted back, _AWESOME!_ Finally she had her own car and didn't have to ask everybody else for rides all the time. After the message went through, I looked at the time: 9:30 a.m. Not too bad, but not too great either. At least I was sleeping now, even if it was just for five-hour stretches at a time and playing catch-up on the nights Sam could stay with me. Thinking about it made me sigh and close my eyes. I had thought I knew what I was in for with the insanity that was Sam's schedule, but I'd been wrong. We'd barely had any time alone together since the night he came over for dinner the first time, and even though I'd seen him since, we hadn't slept together.

Well, technically, we had. But it wasn't the kind of sleeping together I _wanted. _He still seemed worried, though, and between school and work I hadn't managed to get up to La Push at all, so we hadn't found much privacy, either.

Although… maybe that could change now. Charlie was working until eight tonight. In fact, it couldn't hurt to go up and just see if Sam was there. He didn't have a phone—the miniscule stipend the tribe paid him for "security services" had to go to essentials—so I'd just have to wing it, but really, he couldn't be far. I grabbed my keys and my purse, along with my cell phone, and had almost made it to the truck before it occurred to me that I could offer a ride to whichever of the wolves was watching from the woods.

When I got behind the house, I said in a conversational tone, "I'm going to La Push, if you'd rather ride with me than run."

No sign of anyone. That meant it had to be Paul. Jared would have leaped at the chance to be closer to Kim, especially when it meant he didn't have to sit in the rain currently beading off my waterproofed coat.

Shrugging, I turned to walk away. "Okay. Never mind." He was _such _a _jerk. _How could Jared and Sam stand to be in his head all the time? I'd be willing to bet his thought life made bin Laden look like a pacifist.

Just before I pulled away, the passenger side flew open with a protesting creak. Paul threw himself onto the seat and slammed the door shut. I wanted to make a snarky remark, but he was probably ten times quicker on his feet, verbally speaking—well, likely in every way. There was no sense in antagonizing him further. Instead, I tried, "Merry Christmas."

"Yeah, I'm fucking full of comfort and joy," he snapped, shaking his wet hair and sending water all over the cab.

Oh-kay.

I didn't bother with any more conversational attempts, and when we reached La Push he jumped out of the truck as I was turning into the reservation. Somehow, he managed to close the door too.

When I knocked on Sam's door, he didn't answer, so I turned the knob and stepped inside, calling, "Hello?" just in case. The house was empty, though. Flipping on the nearest light, I looked around. It seemed pretty much the same as the first time I'd visited, which meant it could use a good cleaning. Well, it didn't bother me.

On the other hand, maybe it bothered Sam? He didn't seem very aware of his home environment, though outside he was completely alert. Still, it couldn't be healthy to sleep in this much dust.

For a minute, I wavered. I didn't want to act like his housekeeper… But on the other hand, it wasn't like I would be doing this on a regular basis, and I'd be making myself more comfortable anyway. Plus, I didn't have anything else to do, and I'd discovered that housework was the best way to get exercise without me losing interest fast. Anyway, I hadn't gotten him a Christmas present, and if there was one thing I'd noticed about Sam, it was that doing things to help him got the strongest response from him.

There wasn't much to clean with, but I managed to find a bucket, an old sponge, and a broom and dustpan. Acting on the philosophy that "soap is soap," I filled the bucket with hot water and dish detergent and got started, hoping as I went that "original scent" wasn't too overpowering for werewolf senses.

I had just finished changing the sheets when I heard the door open and close. "Hi!" I called.

The voice that replied had me freezing in place. "Hello?" It was a woman.

Slowly, I walked down the hallway. Sue Clearwater stood there, arms full of canvas grocery bags. Her eyebrows lifted almost to her hairline when she saw me. "Bella? What on earth?"

"Um…" Wringing my hands, I stepped a little closer. "It's okay that I'm here, I promise. Sam and I are going out. I mean, I'm his girlfriend."

I wasn't prepared for her response. After a long, silent pause, a huge smile dawned on her face at the same time that her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry," she gasped, setting down a couple of bags and hurriedly swiping at her cheeks.

Hurrying forward, I picked up the bags she'd put down and took a couple more from her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just ignore me." She bustled over to lay the other bags down on the countertop and began putting things away with quick, efficient movements. Clearly she was familiar with the interior of Sam's house.

After staring for a moment, I shook myself into action and began to help. "You're the one who makes sure he has food? I knew he didn't do much grocery shopping but I couldn't figure out who would do this for him."

"I am." She avoided my eyes as she set a pre-cooked turkey breast on the lowest shelf.

I watched her in silence as I arranged some fruit in a bowl, and then blurted, "You know, don't you? You know why he broke up with Leah."

With a deep sigh, Sue straightened and closed the fridge door before beginning to fold bags. "I do. Although he doesn't know I know. It's technically against the rules, but honestly those rules are archaic. I've been married to Harry Clearwater for more years than either of us cares to remember, and there's no way he can keep something that important from me." Turning to face me, she laughed. "I won't pretend the old men didn't go into a tizzy when they found out _you _knew, though."

"Sam didn't have any choice about that," I replied defensively. "It wasn't his fault."

Sue shrugged. "Oh, they know. It was more the principle of the thing. Personally, I thought that it was far better for you to know. Once you know about vampires, it's comforting to realize there is actually something that can take one out other than a 360-degree sweep with a flamethrower and a lot of luck." She sighed deeply. "I wish I was allowed to tell Leah. She's going to be furious with him all over again for moving in on Charlie's daughter."

I tried to remember what Leah was like and failed. I knew we had to have spoken, but I'd been too deep into my Edward obsession, and then my Edward depression, to recall the details of any conversations. I got a general impression of beauty and that was about it.

"You look well," Sue noted, looking me over with professional health-care-provider eyes. "Healthier."

"Sam makes sure I eat." I jerked one shoulder, trying to hide my embarrassment.

"Sam's good at taking care of other people. He was like that even before." Sue picked up the rest of her bags and grabbed her keys off the counter. "He just isn't very good at taking care of himself."

"I've noticed that." As she opened the front door, I remembered to say, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

Sam came home about an hour later, after I had taken the couch cushions to the porch and beaten them with the broom until they stopped producing mushroom clouds of dust, and then put them back. He stopped the second he got through the door and looked around, nostrils flaring.

"I hope you don't mind," I chattered nervously before he said anything. "I know it's probably crossing a line and I should have asked you first, plus it's not as if I didn't enjoy it here before or anything, but I thought maybe you'd like it and plus since we didn't exchange gifts it would—"

I stopped because Sam suddenly appeared in front of me and his mouth was on mine before I could blink. His hands were on either side of my face, hovering just above my skin, but the force of his kiss sent me staggering backward until my thighs hit the couch. With a moan, I kissed him back, shivering with happiness as his tongue swept across my own. He kissed me until we were both breathless and then tore away to say huskily, "I can't believe you did that for me."

I grinned. "If I'd known housecleaning would get this kind of response out of you, I would've tried it a lot sooner." I knew it wasn't the housecleaning, though. It was that I'd done something for him that he hadn't had time to do himself. His reaction made me brave, so I added, "I need to take a shower, and now that I've scrubbed your bathtub I'm pretty sure I'm safe from any accidental foot infections. Want to take one with me?"

He nuzzled my shoulder and planted a kiss just above my collar. His fingertips skimmed down my sides and splayed over my rear, pulling me against him. "_Yes._"

Relief made me dizzy, but I tried not to show it as I grabbed his hand and started for the bathroom. Once we were in there, he surprised me by stopping me and pulling my shirt over my head. When he saw the pale blue satin bra beneath, one corner of his mouth pulled up. Reaching to trace the edges of the fabric with one finger, he commented, "Pretty."

I smiled back and reached behind me to undo the hooks. It fell to the floor.

"Prettier," he decided, and bent to kiss me again.

Laughing against his mouth, I pulled back enough to say, "Keep that up and we'll never actually make it to the shower."

"I'm all right with that." He leaned, but I ducked out from under him to turn on the faucet.

"Yeah, well, I've been looking for an excuse to get out of my clothes with you around, and this seems to be my best bet until the next time I scrub your floors." I shoved down my jeans and stepped out of them and my underwear. The silence behind me made me turn around. "Hey, why are you still dressed?"

"I don't want you to feel like _that's _why…" He trailed off with an uncomfortable gesture.

"No, no, no." I hurried to put my arms around his waist. Leaning back to meet his gaze, I reassured him, "I know that's not why. C'mon. Don't worry about it and for God's sake get in here."

He reached for the button on his cutoffs and we got into the spray together.

"So…" I grinned up at him, blinking against the droplets flying into my eyes. "Merry Christmas?" Before he could answer, I knocked a shampoo bottle off the edge of the shelf with my elbow.

When I turned and bent to pick up the bottle, I heard Sam mutter, "Shit." The next thing I knew, I was in his arms, both of his hands gripping my thighs to lift me to him. He carefully leaned me against the wall and kissed my neck over and over again, muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, is this okay?" even as his body rocked against mine.

I wrapped my legs around him and grabbed his shoulders for balance. "Yes," I managed to gasp, even though the fiery laps of his tongue against my skin were making me lose my mind. "Don't stop." He shifted, lowering one arm to brace beneath both my legs as he reached with the other to fondle my breasts. I dug my nails into his skin. My head fell back against the faded green tile. This was _exactly _what I'd been wanting, every single waking minute since the last time he'd touched me this way. I was so ready that I felt primed to explode at any second. "God, Sam, I want you _so much_."

"Want you too." The words left his mouth as if they fought to get free. "All the time."

I reached between us to stroke him and, when he groaned so loudly it reverberated against the walls, smiled with satisfaction. "I was starting to wonder."

"I'll prove it." He lifted me and angled us both so he could slide inside. He went so slowly I thought I would die, lowering me onto his length inch by inch. He was so _strong_; the pace seemed to cost him no effort at all. Well, as far as holding me up went, anyway. By the time he was buried as deeply as he could go, his whole body was shaking, I assumed from the struggle of holding back. Leaning his forehead against the tile above me, he whispered, "Fuck."

I'd never held this much power over somebody else, ever, and it turned me on so much that I ached with it. I moved restlessly against him with a discontented sound. Sam took a deep breath and then stood straight, supporting me so that he could begin thrusting. Sharp darts of pleasure shot through my body, radiating outward from where we were connected until I was moaning wordlessly over and over and could barely breathe. Finally, he braced his arm beneath me once more and reached between us to rub where it would do the most good. I came so hard that it felt like my whole body contracted around him. Groaning with relief, he came right after me.

After a moment, I wheezed, "Just so you know?"

"Uh-huh?" he panted.

"I'll take that… over housecleaning… as my present."

We both burst into breathless laughter.

_**December 31, 2005**_

When yet another string of firecrackers went off with a series of bangs that was painful even to my ears, I clicked mute on _New Year's Rockin' Eve, _turned to Charlie and said, "Let's go up to La Push." If I was in pain, then that meant Sam had to be in agony. It wasn't as if he could cover his ears in wolf form.

"I can't, honey," he replied. I only then realized he was wearing his gun belt. "I have to be on duty tonight at eight."

"Oh, yeah. Duh."

He patted me on the head as he walked toward the front door. As soon as he drove off, I ran to the back door. By the time I opened it, Sam stood before me.

"I'm sorry." Closing the door behind him, I turned to raise my hands to his ears protectively. "I know it has to hurt."

He closed his hands over mine with a smile. "It's okay. I don't mind."

Dropping my arms, I asked, surprised, "You don't?"

"No." We walked to the couch and sat down. "This time last year, I wished I were dead."

"Oh." I straddled him and sank down to rest my head on his shoulder. He started playing with my hair almost immediately—he seemed fascinated with the way it felt. "And now?"

"Now, I'm glad I'm not." His other hand rubbed the small of my back. "_You _make me glad I'm not."

I kissed his neck. "You make me glad I'm not dead, too."

He laughed a little. "I have a feeling that's a strange thing to say to your girlfriend."

I kissed his neck again, more slowly this time, and with plenty of tongue. He caught his breath and shifted beneath me, both hands going to my waist. Pulling away again, I smiled. "Good thing your girlfriend's pretty strange."

He turned his head to kiss my ear. "I like her that way. Plus she's a queen, so there's that. Royalty is supposed to be strange."

"That's true." I moved to pull my shirt off and then kissed him on the lips quickly before adding, "Also demanding. If I order you to sleep with me, you have to obey."

Sam moved his hands up to cup both my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"That's what I like to hear." Sliding down to the floor on my knees, I pulled down his cutoffs enough to expose his erection. He sucked in his breath between his teeth, hands going to my head. I gently curled my fingers around him. "Now. I'm demanding that you let me do this first." Licking him from top to bottom and back up again, I looked up with a grin when he twitched in my grasp. "And the only thing I ask is that you tell me if I do it wrong."

As it turned out, though, the only thing he wanted to tell me about was how I did it right.


	15. Declaring Herself

**Apologies for the long-ass A/N. I've been slacking on my thank-yous lately. JaspersDestiny rec'd Holding Sam at Fellowsheep of the Peen, and TwiCharmed did the same on the last TwiFic Pimps podcast and at the Fictionators. Major hearts to both of you ladies. (I'll put the links in my profile if you're interested.) **

**Also, I keep forgetting to mention this, but birthday girl BellaFlan came up with the name for this story. THANK YOU FLANNY. **

**This is one of those chapters in which I've gotten all clever and shit and interwoven canon with my own stuff. So, if you recognize phrases/events/etc., please for the love of God believe that I'm **_**not**_** trying to take credit for Stephenie Meyer's work in chapter five of New Moon. Twilight belongs to her, duh.**

**Big thanks to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart for beta'ing and pre-reading. And, since I'm a horrible person, I forgot to thank grrlinterrupted and Hoochie for pre-reading Stucker, so here's their thanks. THANKS! :-D**

**Song for the chapter: "Paper Aeroplane" by Angus and Julia Stone.**

**# # #**

I opened my eyes and smiled in pleasant shock. Weak bands of sunlight filtered through the curtains onto my bed—almost unheard of for January. My phone buzzed insistently on my desk, but I ignored it in favor of running to the window and looking out. The warmth on my skin wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

Eventually, the vibrations of the phone on the desk got too irritating to ignore, though, so I turned away to check my message and switch the sound on. It was a text from Jessica. _FFS, Bella, it's been a WHOLE WEEK since Jacob turned legal. TAKE ME TO LA PUSH WITH YOU._

Laughing, I replied, _I told you yesterday you could ride w me today. I'm going up as soon as I get dressed._

Her answer came back instantly. _I'm coming now. _A few seconds later, she followed up with: _Coming OVER, perv. I'm not THAT excited. Yet. _I got ready while I waited for her to show up. By the time she knocked on the door, I had my keys and purse in hand and was ready to go.

The sight that greeted me when I swung open the door had me blinking in stupefaction. "What… the…"

"Do you like it?" Jessica asked with a head-to-foot sweeping gesture. "I'm trying something non-threatening." She wore skinny jeans, a thin-knit sweater with a plunging V-neck, and a huge leather belt that matched her boots.

I burst into giggles and stepped out, locking the door behind me. "Um, Jess, I don't know if I'd classify that as 'non-threatening.' At least, not to a barely sixteen-year-old guy."

She pouted, following me to the truck. "Oh, c'mon Bella. I didn't even put on eye shadow or lip liner. My hair is in a _braid. _I mean, it's a French braid, but still. And look at these earrings! They're studs! Do you know how long it's been since I wore _studs?_ Let me give you a hint: Not since fifth grade. Okay, that's not so much a hint as it is straight-up telling you, but, I gotta say, someday Jacob Black is going to appreciate the effort I put into making sure I got the chance to ride him like a jockey on derby day."

I choked on horrified laughter as we got into the truck. Starting the engine, I told her, "He probably will appreciate it, but… he seems really sweet. Maybe you should go easy on the kid." Not to mention the fact that it would make things awkward for me if my friend broke the heart of the rez's golden boy.

"Don't worry about that." She pulled a nail file out of her purse while I pulled away from the curb. "If there's anybody who's an expert at keeping things casual, it's me. Also, look at these nails. No flowers, no designs, no color, even. Just a French manicure. I mean, I'm practically makeover material."

Just the idea made me start giggling all over again. "Yeah, right. Shut up, you know you're beautiful."

She shrugged. "Just good at painting the barn, that's all."

That was uncharacteristic. I shot her a glance as I turned onto Forks Avenue. "That's not true. What's up?" She shrugged again, making a big show of filing her nails, and suddenly it dawned on me. "Oh my God. You totally _like _him. C'mon, Jess, a sophomore?"

Jessica laughed weakly and turned her head to look out the window. "That'd be stupid."

Remorse welled up, drowning amusement. "No. Hey." I reached across the seat to grab her hand. "It's not stupid. I'm sorry. That was mean. He doesn't _look _like a sophomore. And he's pretty mature for his age." There was no way in hell _I _could ever look at him that way, but that didn't mean I should take out my issues on Jessica.

"Well, I'm immature for mine, so we can meet in the middle," she replied, her usual smile restored.

As soon as we got to La Push, I headed straight for the Blacks' home. When we pulled up to the little red house, Jacob's head appeared in the window before we even got out of the truck. He met us halfway up the drive.

"Jess! Bella!" For the first time I could remember, his hair was out of its usual ponytail, falling in straight black curtains on either side of his face. His grin was just as sunny as ever, though.

"Whoa. Did you grow since the last time I saw you?" Jessica demanded, craning her neck back.

His face, now completely lacking any trace of baby fat, grew smug. "Six five."

Jessica looked suitably impressed. "Wow. You're almost a foot taller than me. I must look like a midget from all the way up there."

Clearly looking for an excuse to show off, he picked her up by the waist and swung her around while she squealed and clung to his arms. "You feel like one, too," he told her as he set her down.

She didn't seem to be in any hurry to let go of him, but I wanted to be sure she was okay before I set off in search of Sam, so I interjected, "What were you doing before we interrupted?"

Jacob hesitated. "I was just about to work on my car, but we can do something else…"

"No, that's perfect!" Jessica assured him. "I'd love to see your car."

I heard the unspoken _and whatever else you want to show me, _but it didn't seem like Jacob did. He led us back behind the house, where trees and shrubbery grew thickly enough to hide the garage from the house. Well, "garage" was a relative term; this was actually a couple of sheds bolted together with the dividing removed. Inside, I could see a car with a VW logo raised on cinder blocks.

"Sweet," Jessica said, following Jake into the building. "How much more do you have to do?"

"Maybe three more weeks' worth of work," he replied, popping the hood and then raising it before hanging a work lamp from its edge. "I could give you all the details, but I have a feeling it's pretty boring to… well, everyone who's not me."

After a questioning glance at Jacob for permission, Jessica pulled open the passenger door to the Rabbit and looked around before sitting inside. "It's not boring, but I'm pretty ignorant about car repair."

He looked around the edge of the hood. "I guess we'll just have to talk about other stuff."

Jessica beamed. "Tell me about your friends, then. You go to the tribal school, right? I know some of you guys from when we've come up to surf or whatever. Who's your best friend? Have we met?"

"I dunno. I hang out with Quil Ateara and Embry Call the most. Well, Quil, now." A sour expression dawned on the affable features, making him almost unrecognizable.

As if on cue, a voice shouted, "Jacob?"

"Shit," Jacob muttered, glancing at both of us quickly, and then called, "Back here!"

After a second, a boy slightly shorter than Jacob joined us in the shed. He was built and knew it, straightening to flex his muscles as soon as he saw both Jess and me. Unlike Jacob, his hair was short—shorter than Charlie's, even.

"Hey, Quil," Jacob greeted him half-heartedly.

Quil gave both of us girls a once-over and then asked, "Hey, who're you hiding back here?" with an impish smile. He reminded me of Jess, a little, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling back.

Jessica gave him the once-over in return, but she didn't return his smile. "I'm Jessica."

"I'm Quil Ateara," he announced grandly as he shook her hand, and then turned to me.

"I'm Bella Swan," I told him, shaking his hand and trying not to laugh out loud when he tightened his bicep.

"Sam Uley's girlfriend," Jacob announced, still with that strange sour note in his voice.

Quil dropped my hand as if it burned him. "Oh."

Jessica and I shared a mystified glance. She was the one to ask out loud, "What's wrong with being Sam's girlfriend?"

"Nothing," Quil replied hurriedly, at the same time Jacob snarled, "He's a total _dick, _that's all," and threw a wrench across the shed.

My jaw dropped as I tried to think of what to say. What on earth could make easy-going Jacob hate someone as incredible as Sam? His anger seemed completely out of character.

"Holy shit, Jacob," Jessica said with an easy laugh before a tense silence could set in. "If he turned you down for the spring formal, don't worry about it. I'll be your date."

Quil burst into relieved chortles, and Jacob's face relaxed into a smile. "It's nice to know I've got a Plan B."

I still didn't know what to say. _Excuse me while I go hunt down my total dick of a boyfriend? _"Um, okay. Well, I gotta go, so I'll see you guys later." With a wave, I walked back toward my truck.

Jacob hurried after me. "No, Bella, wait. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that, especially when you were around. I'm the one who's a dick."

I stopped to look at him. "It's okay; I'm not mad." I wasn't. I was just completely confused. "What did Sam ever do to you? Is it because of breaking up with Leah?" The Clearwaters and Blacks _had _been friends forever; it would make sense if he felt some sort of brotherly defensiveness on Leah's behalf.

"No, it's just…" He trailed off, and then said, "You know what? I've already stuck my foot in my mouth enough for one day. It was nice seeing you."

He was right; better to just leave it. "You too. Will you tell Jess just to give me a call when she's ready to leave?"

"Sure." He turned and jogged back to the garage.

When he turned the corner, Jared appeared in front of me. "Hey, Sam isn't home, but he told me to tell you where they are."

Phew. Glad to direct my thoughts elsewhere, I smiled at him. "Walk or drive?"

"For you, Your Majesty? Drive."

We were pulling away from Jacob's house before his use of my nickname registered. "Why did you call me that?"

"Call you what?" He was trying to play it off, but I saw a frantic light flare in the back of his eyes. "I called you Bella."

"You totally did not; you called me… oh, shit." I sat back, hard, as the possible explanations dawned on me. "Did you _hear _or did you, you know, _hear _in your _head?_"

Jared sat in miserable silence for a moment, and then finally admitted, "He thought it."

"How. Much. Did. You. See?" I demanded between gritted teeth.

"Nothing, I swear to God!" he babbled almost before I finished talking. "It was just really fast—he was thinking of the redheaded leech and then he remembered her name is Victoria and that made him think of Queen Victoria and that made him think of you, but he shut it down really, really fast. He wouldn't have even thought of it at all except that it's been a whole week since the last time he saw you. We just got the nickname. "

"_We?" _I shrieked. "Paul heard it too?" Jared closed his eyes and smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. I took that as answer enough. "Dammit."

"Sorry, Bella," he offered contritely. "Man, Sam is really gonna kick my ass."

"It's okay," I muttered, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and it didn't seem to want to fade.

Following Jared's directions, we pulled over on the side of the road near the cliffs and then walked a short distance into the woods. When we came out of the tree cover, I saw that we were on the cliff's edge. Paul ignored our arrival, but Kim got up from where she'd been sitting against a tree trunk and rushed to embrace Jared. He pulled her aside and began an excited, low-voiced conversation. Sam turned away from a man I didn't recognize, also dressed in cutoffs, to look at me. He didn't smile, and his shoulders looked slumped.

"Hi," I said, walking to join them. I slid my arm around his waist. He flinched, which made me raise my eyebrows—he hadn't done that in a while—but then he leaned into me.

"Bella, this is Embry Call," he said, waving to the man—who was actually just another boy, I realized as I met his gaze. "Embry, this is Bella Swan, my girlfriend." To me, he added, "Embry phased for the first time this week."

"Oh God." Stricken, I looked between the two of them. "I'm so sorry." I didn't know with whom I sympathized more.

Embry shrugged with a sick-looking smile. "It's not all bad."

"Fuck yeah it's not!" Jared interjected with a grin. "C'mon, Em, I'll show you." He kissed Kim and then, while I gasped and suppressed a scream, dove straight off the cliff's edge into the pounding surf below. Tearing free of Sam's grip, I ran to look down; an unbearably long moment later his head popped up and he yelled, waving wildly before turning for shore.

Only then did I register Kim giggling and the other boys laughing their asses off. After closing my eyes and sighing, I turned to glare at them playfully. "A little warning would have been nice."

Sam shook his head. "Warning you spoils the fun." He wasn't laughing but he looked more relaxed. If looking like an idiot was the price I had to pay to get that result, it was worth it.

I looked at Embry again, and memory clicked into place. "Oh, man. You're _Jacob's _friend."

Embry looked as though I'd stabbed him. An uncomfortable silence fell. Sam broke it by saying, "Paul, Embry, you two go ahead."

"I'm going to meet Jared," Kim said hastily, and darted off, jingling her keys.

For once, Paul had no snarky remark to make, merely jumping off the cliff without comment. Embry looked a bit nervous, but I heard loud congratulatory whoops a minute after he dived.

"What did I say wrong?" I asked Sam, confused.

He stared over my shoulder at nothing in particular. "It's a sore subject at the moment."

The emotional distance between us hurt. I hadn't realized how much I leaned on him for stability until now, when he was too distracted to offer it. It didn't feel like the right moment to reach for him, so instead I stood awkwardly with my hands in my coat pockets. "Why's that?"

He focused on me finally. "Embry wants to hang out with Jacob. I won't allow him." Rubbing the back of his head with one hand, he muttered, "Not that he'll have to wait long before they can again."

I hunched over as a gust of wind fluttered through the trees and sent icy fingers down the gaps in my hood. "Wait, what? I'm totally lost. Why can't he be friends with Jacob anymore? And what do you mean he won't have long to wait?"

Sam pulled me into his arms. Sighing with relief, I pressed as close to him as I could get. "He won't be waiting long because Jacob is about to phase. Do you remember what I told you, about how I can feel it before they do?"

After turning my head to kiss his chest, I nodded. "Like phantom pain, you said."

"More like an itch," he corrected me, rubbing my back. "But yeah. For the past two weeks I've felt it—two pings on the radar, I guess. I thought it must be Jacob and Quil; they both have the gene. It was a total shock when Embry phased instead. Jacob's temper is insane and his head's hot enough to roast marshmallows, though, so he'll be next. Maybe within the next week. That's why it won't be long."

My arms had thawed out enough to loop around his waist. "Okay. So why won't you let Embry hang out with Jacob?"

"Because it's too dangerous. Our tempers are on a hair trigger for the first weeks after the phase. Anything and everything can set us off. He could expose us, number one, or he could seriously injure Jacob. So… for now, he's only allowed to be with his brothers."

Frowning, I pulled away to stare at him. "Expose you? Wait. You haven't told Jacob that he's going to turn into a giant wolf?"

Sam frowned, too, but with confusion, as he dropped his arms. "No. It's vital to keep it a secret."

"Yeah, I get that, but you said it's going to happen within a week. What if he phases around his dad? In the house? Around _my _dad when they're watching a game?" Increasingly frantic, I threw my questions out like blows. He flinched a little. "How will he know what's going on? What if he panics and something awful happens? Who _invented _this system, anyway? The same idiots who decided tribal elders' wives can't know what's going on? Or that best friends can't hang out with each other?"

"Bella, calm down," he said, but that just infuriated me more.

"I won't! This is stupid! My dad could get killed by accident and it's all the fault of these lame rules—does Embry have a girlfriend? Is she allowed to hang out with him or is it another rule that you can't have any sort of romantic relationship unless you're _imprinted? _Why would you do this to him?" I could hear myself getting more and more unreasonable, but suddenly I realized this wasn't about Embry. This was about me. I snapped my mouth closed. The only sound was the howl of the wind, which picked up and whipped my hood off my head.

Sam answered heavily, "I do it to save him from the kind of nightmares I have."

"I know," I whispered, but I wasn't really paying attention. Instead, I was reviewing what I'd said. I felt bad for Embry, sure, but that wasn't the problem. I was already on edge because of what Jared had told me, and now I was scared of what would happen to me, the only woman who knew the truth about the wolves and wasn't an imprint or a wife. What if some arbitrary rule appeared and eliminated me from Sam's life like Jacob and Quil had been from Embry's? Following hard on the heels of that revelation was the understanding that I was being a total jerk. As if he didn't have enough weighing on his mind already. "I'm sorry," I told him, this time a little louder. "I'm really sorry."

Wow. Maybe the reason I'd never dated anybody but a vampire and then a werewolf was because I was really, really bad girlfriend material. The tightness in my chest, which had all but disappeared over the past few weeks, made its return known with a vengeance.

Sam still stood watching me, waiting for me to get my act together, I supposed. "You know what? I should probably…" I was going to cry, and that wasn't his fault either.I hid my humiliation with my hood, pulling it low over my face as I turned away. "I'm just going to see if Jess needs a ride home. I should probably get going anyway." Swallowing down the lump that guilt and depression had lodged in my throat, I started walking back toward the road.

I hadn't gotten more than a couple of yards away before Sam was in front of me, a few feet ahead. "No, wait," he begged, and at the desperate note in his voice I jerked my head up. "Please don't leave. Please."

I stopped and shook my head in incomprehension. "Huh? Sam, I was just going to get out of your—"

He spoke over me as if he didn't even hear the words, hands spread in a pleading gesture. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to put your dad in danger; I swear it never even occurred to me or I would have been more careful. I've never had this many people to worry about before but I promise, Bella, I've got it now and I'll never let it happen again, just _don't go._ Please." For the first time ever, he looked his age, not yet out of his teens and completely out of his depth, with responsibilities that would drown a lesser man.

"Sam." I moved so fast to get to him that I stumbled over my own feet and nearly fell before he caught me. Clinging to him, I got my balance and said, "I'm not _leaving_ you. I just wanted to give you some space, that's all. I'm being a pain in the ass."

"No you're not." He pulled me up to his level and buried his face in my hair. "You're not. You're right, I should have taken into account the fact that your dad's here a lot and could be in the wrong place at the right time."

"You can't think of everything," I argued, leaning back so I could see his face. It was flushed, and his eyes glittered, making my heart clench with guilt. Usually when he was upset he went blank. He'd never reacted with this much open emotion before. I couldn't decide if that was good or bad. "I bet Billy's been making sure Charlie doesn't show up. Sam, I'm not going to leave you." I hugged his neck and kissed him on both cheeks. "I don't want to go. I thought I was in the way. You know, a distraction."

"No." He wasn't letting me go. "Never."

"Sam…" I nuzzled his neck, letting its warmth thaw my nose. "You can't seriously think I'd break up with you so fast over something like that?"

Finally, he set me down, but he still clutched at my back. "I don't know. I don't know anything right now. I'm so—nobody knows why Embry phased, except that no one knows who his father is, either, and so it must've been one of ours, mine or Paul's or Quil's or Jared's or Jacob's. Or Harry Clearwater, he has the gene too."

"Oh crap," I breathed as the implications hit me.

"Yeah. So there's that. And his mom is _furious; _we're not allowed to tell her why he's out at all hours of the night and why he's missing school, so she thinks I'm some sort of gang leader now who's pointing her son straight to juvy." I laughed out loud at that, and he managed half a smile. "Plus the fucking council is breathing down my fucking neck—"

I blinked in shock. He'd never referred to the elders with anything less than respect. "What for?"

He didn't want to answer; I could see that much in the way he avoided my gaze. "Some of them… Sometimes, they think… There's some disagreement on what our primary responsibilities are."

A chill that had nothing to do with January weather brushed over my skin. "And what do they say they are?"

"_I _say our primary mission is to kill vampires. Period. And whatever gets us to that goal fastest is what we should be doing. _They… _some of them… think that our only focus should be on protecting the rez, and the people who live here."

It took a second for the meaning of that statement to register, but when it did, I swallowed down nausea. "The people who live here." Another swallow. "Not me."

He took a deep breath. When he spoke again, he was back to being my Sam, in control of his emotions to the point of appearing impassive, but I knew the truth of the matter. "They're wrong. I'll fight them on this until I'm proven right. It's not as if you can move in with me."

"No," I agreed, too quickly, and then winced when I heard myself.

He didn't seem hurt, though. "I don't want you to think they all feel that way. Or that they feel that way all the time. It's not that they don't care about you, either. It's that sometimes the good of the many outweighs the good of the one. I still think that in this case the good of the one leads to the good of the many."

It was my turn to take a deep breath. Sliding my hands down to grasp his, I asked him as gently as I could, "Are you sure they're not right? Maybe you're too close to the situation to be able to judge it."

"You're not a situation," he corrected me, freeing one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Toying with its end, he continued, "And yes, I'm sure. I want to protect you, but I haven't lost sight of my mission. Just because the Cullens limited us to the reservation doesn't mean I'll accept those limitations when they're not around. Being proactive and going to the threat by surrounding her main target still seems to be the smartest course of action."

I kissed his chest. "_That _seems like a very smart way of justifying doing exactly what you want to do."

The faintest hint of a smile played around the corners of his mouth. "I _always _do exactly what I want. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

I burst into giggles, and then managed to straighten my face enough to inquire mock-seriously, "And do you want me?"

Sam bent to sniff my neck at its curve into my shoulder, and lifted away my hood and scarf to lick my collarbone. "Yes," his voice rumbled next to my ear.

I shuddered and suppressed a moan as he licked me again. "Good. Can you go back to my house with me?"

He thought about it, fingers tracing a heated path across my back and stomach while his mouth nipped and sucked the tiny patches of skin I'd left exposed on my neck. "Yes. Just let me phase and talk to the others."

It was difficult to step away, but I managed it, saying, "I'll wait in the truck." While I waited, Jessica texted me, letting me know she was ready to go home. A few minutes later, Sam joined me, looking grim again. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Your friend Jessica hanging around Jacob," he answered as I started the engine. Raising his voice to be heard over the roar, he added, "It's a complication I don't need."

"What the—" I bit my lip to hold in the angry words I wanted to snap and drove in silence, trying to hide my feelings and knowing it was a useless effort against his werewolf senses.

"It's dangerous for her," he tried after a moment. "And it splits Jacob's attention."

"If you're trying to convince me that it's better for us not to be together, it's not working," I bit out.

"It's different for him. He's the true Alpha."

I almost swerved off the road in shock. "What the hell?"

Sam's face was as expressionless as I'd ever seen. "He'll take over the pack eventually. It's his birthright."

"That's stupid," I argued. "This is America; birthright doesn't mean much. You're the one who should be in charge."

"Democracy has no place in a wolf pack. It's either prepare him to take over or have him eventually fight me for it. I'm not interested in going that route."

"No. Definitely not." Sliding a glance sideways, I asked, "Will that be awful? I remember you telling me that finding purpose in your work was what helped you want to live."

"Maybe once," he admitted. "But now, I have you."

Just like that, all the irritation vanished. The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I love you so much."

Sam froze. I didn't think he was even breathing.

After a silence that seemed to stretch on into eternity, I said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

Apparently my words broke his paralysis. "No," he interrupted me.

"No, it's all right, I should have just kept my—"

"No," he said again, and then before I could blink my truck was in neutral.

I pulled over, put it into park, and stared at him in astonishment. "Sam, what—"

He pulled me on top of him to kiss me, cradling my face in his hands as he pressed his lips to mine over and over again. He lifted his head. "Don't ever apologize for telling me you love me. Do you know how long it's been since I heard anyone say it?" His face looked lit up from the inside, even though he wasn't smiling. "I love you too, Bella. I should have told you first but I was afraid I would scare you off."

Sheer joy made it difficult for me to breathe, which was a nice change from the norm. "_Really?_"

Now he did smile. "It can't be that big of a surprise."

"No, just…" I lowered my gaze and confessed, "I didn't think you would be able to say it. Not with, you know, Emily."

He kissed my forehead. "I'll always love Emily." My heart turned to stone, but before it could sink he added, "But only when I see her. Because I have to, if I see her. I have no choice. I _choose_ to love you. It's so much better, Bella, believe me. And I'll choose to be apart from her, and near to you, every time. I swear it." Rubbing my arms, he kissed my nose. "Did you know, when I see Emily, she looks exactly the same as the day I imprinted?" Dumbfounded, I shook my head. How was that even possible? The marks he'd left on her were horrific. He explained, "I think it's that the imprint sees her genetics, not the external marks. So it's all idealized. I'm literally incapable of seeing the truth when I'm with her. I didn't even understand why everyone thought her looks had been ruined until I saw a picture, and then..." He swallowed, looking sick. "But when I'm with you, I see everything." One of his fingers traced the scars on my cheek. "You've never tried to hide what's wrong, and I've always known. I don't worship you. I love you, not because you seem perfect, but because you're Bella."

It might have been a weird declaration coming from anyone else, or spoken to anyone else, but between the two of us it made perfect sense. I still didn't know how I would react if I saw Edward again, if the old magic would wrap itself around my head and change my thinking once more. I hoped I never had to find out, and he'd promised I wouldn't. Sam didn't have that kind of assurance.

"Wait... If you see her the same, then how come, that first night in the woods, you touched my cheek and thought I was her?" I asked.

He frowned. "I called you Emily?" At my nod, he sat thinking for a minute. "Oh. I remember. It wasn't the cuts. It was the blood. I still can see the blood." With a shudder, he abruptly stopped talking.

To distract him, I bit his chin lightly—something I'd recently discovered he liked, a _lot_—and when his fingers tightened convulsively, drew back to smile at him. "I almost forgot about poor Jess. Let's go pick her up."

A worry line appeared between his eyebrows, but he obviously decided not to bring up the problem of Jacob and Jessica again.

They came out from the garage holding hands, although Jacob dropped hers when he saw Sam.

All the way home, Jessica kept up a steady stream of chatter, completely elated by the time she'd spent with Jacob. After I dropped her off, Sam blew out a long exhale and said, "This is going to be hard."

"Maybe you should let her hang out with him," I suggested, reaching to hold his hand on the seat between us. "I mean, she's never going to figure it out. Why would she? She'd just think he has a really weird job with funny hours. And it'll keep him happier, longer. Jess is always good for a laugh."

"The danger—"

I shrugged. "Alpha order him not to phase if she's around unless there's a vampire attacking her."

He thought about that, and then gave a sharp bark of laughter. "You're dating a moron."

"No, I'm not." I lifted his hand to my mouth and kissed the back of his fingers. "You didn't have anyone to help you that way. Jacob's lucky."

He slid across the seat to put his arm around me. "I feel pretty lucky, too."

I turned onto my street and then leaned into him. "You should. Not everyone gets to sleep with a qu—"

Every muscle in his body went rigid. "_Bella, __**stop.**__"_

Automatically, I stomped on the brake, coming to a halt in the middle of the road. "What? What's wrong?"

"There's a vampire here." All the blood rushed from my head, leaving me dizzy. He inhaled sharply. "No, two." Before I knew what was happening, he was in the driver's seat and I was on the other side of the cab. "I need to get you away." The tires squealed as he spun the truck around, turning toward our only route of escape. I automatically glanced over my shoulder at my house. What I saw made the edges of my vision go blurry.


	16. Entertaining Visitors

**A/N: Hugemongous thanks to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart for pre-reading and beta'ing.**

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, despite my liberal and shameless lifting of her work from chapter seventeen of New Moon in this chapter of my fic. Before you go chastising me for anyone's dialogue, please to check canon to be sure you know who to blame. ;-)**

**Song for this chapter WAS going to be something else, but since HoochieMomma squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, I'm changing it to "E Ajnabi" from the Dil Se soundtrack just to mess with her. (Really, though, it's "Flame Turns Blue" by David Gray don'thatemeHoochie.)**

**# # #**

"Stop!" I gasped. "Stop, Sam, stop!"

He totally disregarded my order, continuing around the corner. "What?"

"It's not Victoria! That's Carlisle Cullen's car! _Carlisle Cullen's!_"

He pulled over and turned to stare at me. "That isn't what I would call encouragement to turn around, Bella."

"No, you don't understand." I crawled across the seat and knelt next to him. "If he's here, Alice might have seen something I need to know. Something important."

Sam shook his head in bewilderment. "Seen something?"

"Oh." He was so much a part of my thoughts nowadays that I sometimes forgot he didn't know everything I did. "Alice can see the future."

"What the _fuck_?" Gaping, he turned the engine off. "Which one is Alice?"

"She's tiny, with short black hair." _She was my best friend, until Edward told her not to be. _It occurred to me to wonder if Jessica would give me up as a friend, if somebody in her family told her she should. _No way. _ "Her abilities aren't definite; what she sees changes depending on decisions people make. And other stuff. It's kind of confusing, actually. But anyway, if Carlisle came all the way here from wherever they've been, it might be because they know something's going to happen and want to warn me."

"If she could see the future, then she must have known what their return would do to us," Sam replied, expression gone grim.

I made a face. "Only if they thought to ask her to check. She wasn't here the last time the rest of them were."

Clearly, that answer didn't help much. He took a deep breath, re-centering himself. "I don't want you to talk to them."

For the first time, the full reality of the situation hit me. I was about to talk to one of _them. _Even if it was only Rosalie—though God knew what messed-up chain of events would lead to that unlikelihood—it would be overwhelming. "I don't want to either," I gasped through the constriction in my throat. "But… Sam, what if it's about Victoria? Something that could help you fight her?"

He growled, but pulled me into his arms at the same time. "I don't need a leech's help to kill another leech."

Oh. This was partially a pride thing. Well, that made sense. Choosing my words carefully, I asked, "Okay, but what if it's something that could help you get Victoria sooner? Before more guys' phases get triggered?"

A steady rumbling in his chest tickled against my ear, but he stayed still, thinking about it. I took advantage of the moment and burrowed against him as tightly as I could, letting his steadiness lend me a little of my own. I hadn't forgotten that night in the store, and Sam's worshipful voice as he spoke Emily's name. What if I did the same thing to him? I didn't even have an imprint to blame. _I'll choose to be apart from her, and near to you, every time. I swear it._ Should I be choosing to be apart from whichever Cullen had appeared on my doorstep? I couldn't guess whether or not the risk would prove worth it in the end. After all, _I _couldn't see the future. Silently, I decided that if Sam didn't agree, I wouldn't go. I couldn't trust my own judgment in this case.

With a groan, he let his head fall back against the rear window of the truck. "I want a normal life."

I raised my eyebrows. "Where did that come from?"

"It's my birthday in a week and I want a normal life with normal problems. I want my biggest worry to be about winter quarter final exams, or whether or not my girlfriend liked her hook-up with her bi fuckbuddy more than she likes having sex with me." Disregarding my gasp and fiery blush, he closed his eyes and continued, still in the same weary tone, "I want to sleep at _night _and I want to wear a _shirt_ and some goddamn _shoes _and I want cologne to smell _good _again and I want my parents to give me shit about dating a _white_ girl and I want a motherfucking _normal_ _life_." He sighed. "Instead, I gave up my scholarship, I got four hours of sleep in the past twenty-four, I haven't seen either of my parents in I don't know how long, I have a bunch of old men breathing down my neck because of a fucking vampire and the girl she's after—who I'm in love with, by the way—and now that same girl is asking me to take her back to her house so she can have a sit-down with _another _vampire. Goddamn it."

I tried to suppress my giggles but I couldn't. He was usually the definition of "stoic;" seeing him this way made me want to cuddle him until all the bad things went away. Throwing my arms around his neck, I pressed kisses all over his face and then said, "I'm sorry. Everything sucks and it's not fair. If you don't think I should go, I won't."

Sam slowly lowered his head to my shoulder. His hands stroked my back. "I'll never _want _you to go. But you're right; if this could end up giving me a tactical advantage then I'd be an idiot to give up the opportunity."

Hesitantly, I reminded him, "I might… I might lose myself, in there with them. When he left…"

"I know. Breaking an imprint." Lifting his head once more, he kissed me and said, "I'll understand. No matter what."

"Okay." The possibility made me shiver. "I just have one thing to ask before we go back. No, two."

"Anything."

I slid my hand down his arm and entwined my fingers with his. "First, don't let me leave without you. I'm telling you now, while I'm sure I'm in my right mind." He nodded in understanding. "Second, don't let me go. I mean, don't stop touching me." Abruptly, the reality of what I was about to do sank in, and I started trembling. "They'd never hurt me, Sam. Not on purpose. But I'm so, so scared."

"You _don't _have to do this." He kissed the top of my head and then pulled me even closer.

For a second, I wavered. I could just have him take me back to the reservation, where he'd told me the Cullens could never go, and leave all this behind. I'd come up with some excuse to give to Charlie if I had to, or just lay down the law and tell him I was eighteen and ready to live on my own. I wasn't ready for that, though. And I wasn't ready to walk away from anything that might help Sam kill Victoria and remain unharmed.

"Let's go back," I said finally, moving away because I knew he wouldn't be the first to let go. "And just so you know? Don't think I'm going to ignore the fact that you told me it's your birthday in a week. You're not going to be a teenager anymore. That's a huge deal, and I'm pretty sure it's in the girlfriend code of conduct that I have to do something… memorable."

A tiny smile played around the corners of his mouth as he started the engine and turned around. I bit my lip so my own smile wouldn't become too obvious.

Of course, as soon as I caught sight of the house and the car in front of it again, any urge to smile was completely destroyed. I swallowed down the saliva pooling in the back of my mouth, again and again. When Sam parked and opened the door, I slid over to his side so I could clutch his arm.

Even though he had to be able to hear my heart thudding frantically in my chest, Sam didn't ask if I wanted to turn back, for which I was grateful. He just grasped my hand and led the way to the door, waiting for me to unlock it before pushing it open and going in first.

I had braced myself for Carlisle. I'd even allowed myself to hope he'd be alone. What I saw instead made me freeze in misery.

Alice sat on the couch, holding hands with Jasper.

"Bella," she began, making a quick movement as if she were going to jump to her feet, but I hid behind Sam and squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed my face to his back. Not Alice. Why did it have to be Alice? Sam stood motionless, letting me use him as my shield.

"Bella," Alice said again, her musical voice echoing with grief and worry, and I started gasping. I didn't notice when the gasping turned into something else—I only realized I was sobbing when Sam dragged me to Charlie's ancient lounge chair and pulled me into his lap. Out of the corner of my eye I saw another aborted motion from where Alice sat, and heard Sam growl in response.

"Careful, mutt," Jasper drawled, casually rising to his feet and rocking back on his heels. That was all, but Sam stilled like an animal eyeing its prey before it sprang.

Fear allowed me to stop crying and swivel to face the vampires, though I kept the fingers of one hand fisted in the material of Sam's shorts. He relaxed slightly and rubbed the small of my back in a gentle rhythm as I asked, "Why are you here?" Realizing how that sounded, I fumbled to recover. "I mean, I'm happy to see you, of course…" My voice wavered and collapsed before I finished talking, and I started bawling again.

"It's okay, Bella. Everything's okay," Sam murmured to me.

Alice sighed. "I'd forgotten how exuberant you are," she said, and her tone was disapproving.

I looked up at her through my streaming eyes. Alice's mouth was tight, and her gaze flickered over my face and form as if to check on me. Suddenly, I understood what she'd meant: she thought I was crying because I was _happy. _The depth of her misconception shocked me into silence. I turned to Jasper; obviously he didn't labor under the same delusion, but he was too busy staring at Sam to correct her.

"Who's your friend?" she wanted to know, aiming a less-than-thrilled look at Sam.

I edged back, feeling the reassuring heat emanating from Sam's body suffuse my own, as I tried not to breathe too deeply. It was the scent of her I feared most. "He's Sam. Uley."

"He's a werewolf," Jasper added, not looking away from Sam.

"A werewolf?" Alice exclaimed. Distaste flickered over her delicate face. "Well, I guess that explains the smell. But does it explain what I didn't see?" She frowned, her porcelain forehead creasing.

"The smell?" I shared a mystified glance with Sam.

"You smell terrible," she said absently, still frowning. Then her eyes widened and she stared at me, shocked. "Are you two together? Are you _dating a werewolf, _Bella?" I nodded. "How long has this been going on?"

"Not that long," I replied defensively. Did she think I had moved on from Edward the second they'd left town?

She glowered at me. "Edward was right—you're a magnet for danger. Leave it to you, Bella. Anyone _else _would be better off when the vampires left town. But no, you have to start hanging out with the first monsters you can find!"

"There's nothing wrong with werewolves, Alice," I objected, stung by her critical tone. Sam's hands trembled for a moment, and then stilled.

She rolled her eyes. "Until they get angry. He was a fool to think you could survive alone. I've never seen anyone so prone to life-threatening idiocy."

I flinched at the accusation, but before I could say anything I was suddenly on the chair by myself and Sam was on his feet, blocking my view of Alice. "Careful, leech," he warned in a perfectly even tone. "Say whatever you want about me, but I won't sit there and listen to you talk to Bella that way."

I didn't want to argue with Alice—I was still trembling with shock that she was really, truly here, that I could hear her bell-tone voice—but she had it all wrong. Leaning around Sam so I could see her again, I retorted, "You're right about one thing. I wouldn't have survived on my own at _all, _Alice. If it weren't for Sam, Victoria would have killed me the day after you left town."

"Victoria?" she spat. Jasper straightened to attention simultaneously.

"I followed Edward. The day he said goodbye to me, he walked into the woods and—but I guess you know that part already, don't you?"

She shook her head in bewilderment. "What do you mean, he walked into the woods? Why would he do that?"

Why _had _he done that? Even now, as I forced myself to remember the circumstances of our last conversation, I still didn't understand it. "I'm not sure. But he left me still in sight of the house. I tried to follow him, but I couldn't catch him, and I got lost."

Alice had gone statue-still with distress. "How long?" she managed to ask, but her lips barely stirred.

"I'm… not sure…" Everything about that time had faded into a blur of anguish. I looked up at Sam. Even though he didn't return my gaze, one big hand moved to stroke my hair. I leaned my head against him. "I think a couple of days or something?"

"I found you the night after."

"Victoria found me first," I continued, looking back at Alice. "That's how I got these." Turning my cheek to her, I traced the faint lines with my fingers. "She was playing with me. And then Sam saved me. He chased her off, but she nearly killed him." I didn't like the speculative looks Alice and Jasper turned Sam's way, so I tugged on his hand until he moved back, then rose to sit on the arm of the chair while he sat beside me. "She's come back, trying to find a way to kill me—she thinks Edward and I are together still, so she thinks she'll hurt _him_ if I die." I chuckled, bitterly, at the notion.

"Our leaving didn't help you at all, did it?" Alice murmured, eyes glazed over as she thought.

I contemplated that. Had their departure helped? If they hadn't left, I wouldn't have met Sam, or at least gotten together with him, and that would have been a terrible loss. On the other hand, I wouldn't have tried to nearly kill myself with dangerous activities… But I might have been a vampire. A Cold One. Sam's mortal enemy, the one thing he was sworn to kill. I wouldn't have been able to see my parents, let alone sleep, or make love (except to another vampire), or eat… and I wouldn't have been able to do any of those things with and for Sam. Just the thought had me cringing.

"I think it did help, my dear," Jasper said, his uncomfortably perceptive gaze seeming to go right through me. I tried to fight the urge to shrink away from him, but of course I couldn't do anything about how I felt.

"You did say we shouldn't interfere," she agreed. "But I just wish I knew _why _I couldn't see Victoria attacking Bella. It's so disturbing to have gaps and not understand the reason…" Without warning, she glared at Sam. "It's _you._ You're the reason I can't predict Bella's future."

"Am I supposed to apologize?" he asked. His hands trembled again; I gripped the one I held with both of my own.

"It must be because you're a mutant. That explains why I didn't see you coming, Bella—I was so surprised when I heard your truck's engine…"

"Yes, but now we've assuaged our concerns about Bella's well-being." Jasper didn't sound impatient in the slightest, but I couldn't escape the conviction that he was utterly bored with this entire conversation.

Alice scowled at the floor for a moment. "Well… I guess I acted impulsively today. I probably shouldn't have butted in. It's just... I saw you and it was today and you were standing on a cliff's edge and I could have sworn you were looking down like you were thinking of... but I should have known better."

"We promised Edward we wouldn't interfere," Jasper agreed.

"But, Jasper, _werewolves?_" She looked at him beseechingly, as if Sam and I weren't even in the room. "I told him this would happen, but he didn't believe me. 'Bella promised.'" Her voice imitated _his_ so perfectly that I froze in shock while the pain ripped through my torso. Jasper's head rotated oddly to look at me as he reacted to my emotions—of all the Cullens, he was the one least interested in maintaining the human charade. Sam turned to me at the same time. "'Don't be looking for her future, either,'" Alice continued to quote Edward. "We've done enough—'"

"Stop," Sam ordered, still gazing at my face. "You're hurting her."

"I do believe you are." Jasper's beautiful voice sounded more curious than anything else.

Alice immediately shut her mouth.

"Alice, I'm safe with Sam," I pleaded, once I found my voice.

"He doesn't believe that," Jasper interjected. Something about us had caught his attention. He stepped a bit closer. "But you do."

"Sounds familiar," Alice said dryly.

"I was right then, and I'm right now," I stated as firmly as I could. "The only way Edward hurt me was when he left me. That's the only way Sam could hurt me now." He leaned into me as I spoke.

She started to argue, but Jasper, for once, interrupted a lady. "Excuse me, my dear, but if you won't believe Bella, will you believe me?" They began a low-voiced conversation, too rapid to understand and on a frequency human ears couldn't really catch. Sam remained expressionless, but I sensed him following every word.

At last, Alice turned to me. She still looked unhappy, but Jasper appeared to be satisfied. "All right, Bella. I'm sorry to have… intruded." I wanted to reassure her—I still missed her, so much—but she continued, "We'll be leaving again tonight."

She floated to her feet, and I rose along with her to walk the two of them to the door. When I opened it, Alice motioned for Jasper to go ahead. He appeared inside the Mercedes on the driver's side without me ever seeing the door open.

"At least you look well," she sighed, examining me from head to toe as she spoke. "Sometimes I would catch sight of you at first and you seemed so _thin_… But now you're all right? You promise?"

I nodded firmly. "Yes. I promise. You don't need to worry, Alice. I've… well, I _am _figuring out how to take care of myself."

"Good to know."

And then, without giving me a chance to back away or hold my breath or anything, she leaned to embrace me. I'd forgotten how _hard _she was; it was like being hugged by a cool stone, but a stone that contoured comfortingly to the shape of my body. Before I knew what I was doing, my arms were locked around her, and I was gasping to inhale as much of the scent of her skin as possible. It wasn't like any naturally occurring fragrance in the world—not floral, spice, citrus, or musk. Even the most priceless perfumes couldn't compare. My memory hadn't done it justice.

All too soon, I heard the car door slam and realized she was gone. Dazedly, I swung the door shut. My stomach had dropped into my feet. "Alice," I whispered. My fingers clenched and unclenched spasmodically as I began to hyperventilate. I couldn't find my lungs.

Behind me, I heard a deep voice say, "Bella?"

Whoever it was sounded all wrong; his voice was far too rough, housed in muscle and bone instead of granite and ice.

"Alice," I said again, stupidly.

"She's gone," the voice told me, closer now. I turned toward it, but I couldn't see the speaker. All my thoughts were taken up by the memory of Jasper and Alice's faces. I had to go—I had to find them—

"Bella."

I almost screamed as what felt like two brands rested on my upper arms. It was too _hot, _everything was so _hot, _I wanted to be cold because cold was the best feeling in the world…

"Bella." Now the voice sounded desperate. I hoped, with detached concern, that he wasn't worried about me. "Come back."

How could I, when the life I'd longed for was driving away?

One of the brands lifted, and then returned to press on my chest. "I'm sorry. You told me to not let go of you and I did—but I didn't think seeing her out would do this to you. Fucking leeches."

The words stirred a memory, so distant it might have originated years in the past. _Don't let me go. I mean, don't stop touching me._ I had said that. To…

_Sam._

With a gasp, I came out of my daze enough to focus on the face before me. My lips were numb, but I managed to speak. "Sam."

"Thank Christ." He leaned down, closer. "Are you all right?"

"Sam, help me." My entire being had been split in two. One part wanted to chase down the Mercedes and do whatever it took to make sure they never left me again, was convinced that I would die now with them gone. The other part needed Sam. That part was freezing. Dimly I noticed that my body quaked from head to toe.

He rubbed my chest comfortingly. It was too hot. No, it was perfect. No, it was too hot. "I'm here. Tell me what to do."

_Find them, Bella! _the dazzled part of me screamed.

"I need you," the part of me that belonged to Sam told him, unsteadily because of the shaking.

He stilled, looking me over for a second, and then he nodded. "You've got me." In one smooth motion, he lifted me into his arms. I lay there, as limp as the first time he'd carried me, while he climbed the steps and, for the first time, stepped into my bedroom.

When he set me on my feet, I still clung to him. "I can't remember. Sam, help me remember that I'm okay without them. I'm so cold. So cold."

"I will." Moving carefully, so as not to dislodge my fingers, he took off his cutoffs, and then worked open my coat, shirt, and pants. "I'm going to take these off now." I cooperated as best I could, but it was probably a pretty sad effort. When we were both naked, he picked me up again and lay me down on the bed, holding me tightly as he pulled my body against his own and drew the cover over us both.

The uncontrollable tremors made the entire bed quake. "Can't," I managed to choke out, digging my fingers into his skin. "Not enough." Half my body wanted to take off and run away, from the heat and everything else human. The other half ached with foreign chills.

"Okay." He turned my head and kissed my face: my nose, my cheeks, my chin. "Tell me what you want."

"I need you." Operating purely on instinct, I tried to pull him on top of me, but he was too strong. "Inside. Please?" He could undo the glaciation of my skin by holding me, but winter still encased my heart.

Sam's face went expressionless. I tried not to see Alice and Jasper and Edward in my mind's eye as he thought it through, but it was no use. At last he replied, "All right."

"I'm scared," I confessed as he overlaid me. What if I couldn't come all the way back and lost time the way I had when Edward first left?

"I know. It's going to be fine, though. Just hold onto me."

Obediently, I wound my arms around his neck and entwined my legs with his. Everywhere our skin came into contact, the frost retreated from my veins, but it wasn't enough. With an impatient noise, I arched my back to urge him on. Leaning on one elbow, he reached down with his free hand to line himself up with me, rubbing against me until I was wet enough to take him in.

Once he was fully inside, he leaned back a little on his knees and one hand so he could kiss me. My mouth had thawed enough to kiss him back. The gentle pressure of his lips against mine chased away the remnants of vampiric chill. Abruptly, I returned fully to myself, in the present, with the man I loved over and around and within me. I cradled his face in both my hands and spoke wonderingly as I remembered, "I love you."

Sam smiled, relief dawning on his features. "I love you too."

With my restoration, a small flame of arousal began to burn. Lifting my hips to his, I kissed him again, long and deep. When we broke apart for air, I told him, "Don't stop."

He stroked in and out, setting a steady cadence but in no particular hurry. The lack of foreplay meant my buildup was slow, but he whispered over and over again how much he loved me, how happy he was to be with me, how beautiful I was, while his hands roamed over my body, hitting every right place until finally he reached between us and sent me into my orgasm. Even then, he waited until I was done and smiled up at him sleepily before he came too.

When he rolled beside me, I rolled too, to throw the arm and leg closest to him over his chest and stomach, burrowing my head against his shoulder. "God. That was so damn scary. I honestly forgot how I felt about you."

Sam drew my head close and kissed my hair. "You knew what you needed to do to remember, though. If there's ever another time, I'll know how to act right away." I could hear the smile in his voice as he added, "It's a burden to have to have sex with my girl, but I'll make the sacrifice."

"You're such a good guy." I sighed against his skin.

After a few minutes, he sat up with heavy sigh of his own. "I can't stay. Embry needs me, and Jacob really is going to phase any minute. I need to be there if he does."

I curled around him. "I'm glad you were here."

"Me, too." He reached to stroke my hair back. "I'll see you soon. Paul's going to take the next shift."

"Goody. Mister Sunshine." The thought of Paul dispersed my post-sex glow. Standing, I picked up my clothes and started getting dressed again. "Have you ever dug the reason he hates me so much out of his landfill of a mind?"

"Paul doesn't hate you; he hates that he can't have you." I went immobile with shock, and he hastened to elaborate. "He doesn't want _you, _Bella Swan, he wants somebody who takes care of him and that he can take care of without it all getting thrown back in his face." Sam shrugged, buttoning his cutoffs. "He wants somebody who feeds him. The hunger thing hits him the worst. I don't know why. He wants somebody who'll stay. When he looks at you, he sees everything he doesn't have."

"Oh." Now I felt like a jerk. "I can feed him."

"You don't have to do that. You're my girlfriend, not pack chef."

"If I want to, though, that's okay, right?"

He laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders so he could draw me close and nuzzle my neck. "You can do whatever you want, baby girl. It's your food. But you're nicer than he deserves no matter what."

I followed him down the stairs and kissed him goodbye at the back door. "Be careful."

After I watched him disappear into the tree line, I turned back to the kitchen and started cooking. By the time an hour had passed I had a decent amount of food prepared, if one counted enough chicken teriyaki, plus rice and stir fry, to outfit a buffet as "a decent amount." Well, Charlie would be happy, assuming Paul left him… on second thought, I decided I'd better just go ahead and package up Charlie's portion. Once that was done, I opened the back door again and called, "Paul?"

Silence.

Well, I'd expected that. I felt stupid, but said quietly, "If you're hungry, I have, uh, some extra food from what I made for dinner tonight." When he still didn't respond, I rolled my eyes and exclaimed, "For God's sake, dickhead, don't do something that'll make your life easier or anything."

He appeared in front of me a second later, a disaffected expression ruining his otherwise good-looking face. "Did somebody call me? Looking to get some action on the side while Sam's not around? I'm all yours, but I gotta warn you, I'm not all that fucking great at keeping the Lord High Alpha out of my head."

I snorted and stood aside. "If you're hungry, come in and eat. Believe me; I get more than enough action without your help."

Paul's mouth twisted. For a second I thought he would turn on his heel and leave, but instead he sneered and walked past me to sit at the dining room table without another word. With a sudden ache in my chest, I remembered talking to Edward about how men got grumpier when they hadn't eaten recently.

Paul ate in silence while I scrubbed up the pots and pans, and then, to my shock, he rose, put all the dishes into the sink, and began to wash them. We only had one sponge, so I had to watch as he cleaned the entire kitchen, still without speaking. Once he rinsed out the sink one final time and hung the drying towel on the oven door, he opened the back door and headed for the forest once more.

He hadn't gotten more than halfway across the open area when he suddenly exploded into his wolf form, scraps of fabric flying in every direction as he tore through his clothes. I gasped; this was the first time I'd actually witnessed the transformation from man to wolf in progress. It was so _fast. _One second he was human, the next a giant silver wolf crouched before me, snarling, as he swung his head back and forth, nostrils flaring.

"What…" I breathed, but my question was answered a second later, as Victoria streaked across the open space and fastened onto Paul's neck. He barreled sideways, slamming her into a massive tree trunk. It splintered with the impact. Paul ducked out of the way, backing up so rapidly I didn't see him until he reappeared twenty feet away. Victoria darted toward me this time, but screamed as Paul lunged and caught her leg. I screamed, too, paralyzed by terror. Victoria collapsed, and for a moment I thought Paul had won, but it was a feint. Once she lay on her back, she kicked him between the eyes with her free foot and then, when he dropped her leg in shock, she sprang to stand and grab his head.

One quick backflip and yelp—I screamed again in impotent horror—and she turned away from Paul's limp body to smile with predatory satisfaction.

"_Now _we'll have some fun," she announced brightly. My throat felt as if it were surrounded with ice once more. I realized that she had put her hand around it to squeeze. Her red eyes were the last thing I saw before I blacked out.


	17. Ending It

**A/N: Lots of love and ginormous thanks to BellaFlan, cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and new mommy WolfGirlAtHeart (congratulations, mami!) for all their pre-reading and beta'ing. And double thanks to cretin and grrlinterrupted for helping me with the revisions of the revisions. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song for this chapter? "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga. Yes, really.**

**By the way, I only got halfway through my review replies for the last chapter, but I figured y'all would want the update before the reply. I PROMISE I will answer each and every one of your reviews, though. :-) I always do.**

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When I opened my eyes, I saw Victoria's face wavering as if she were underwater. Her voice sounded faraway and tinny. "There you are. Excellent. I do hate when I accidentally brain damage prey. So much less satisfying than hearing the screams as I drain them."

I blinked, trying to focus. "Where… where am I?" I croaked. My throat was sore.

She _tsk_ed impatiently. "Really? That's your first question? What does it matter _where_? You should be asking _how. _How will death come for you today?"

My vision cleared sufficiently for me to take in what she was wearing: a beautiful white satin wedding gown that looked very old, with a train long enough to make two more dresses. Victoria sported a tiara on top of her flaming curls, currently tamed into a chignon. She smiled with satisfaction when she saw me gazing at her attire. "Don't I look lovely?" She performed a pirouette and surveyed herself in a full-length mirror set up close by. Now that I could look around, I saw that we seemed to be in some sort of warehouse, full of construction detritus and dusty tables.

I coughed. "Very." Hopefully she couldn't read tone with my vocal cords this thrashed. _Sam. Sam. Where are you? _For a second, hysteria overwhelmed me, but I forced calm back into the forefront. Panicking wouldn't help anyone, and since I was still alive, I had a chance.

"I _know_!" She did an arms-outstretched twirl, somehow kicking the train out of the way as she went so that her feet remained unencumbered. "This is the dress I wore to my very first wedding to James. It was just a year after he turned me, you know, but I was a bit of a prodigy. I could be around humans without eating them far sooner than most, so he didn't have to worry about me interrupting the ceremony with a little _incident. _Of course, after the license was signed, we shared the priest for our wedding dinner." She smiled, teeth gleaming in the faint light from the streetlamps outside. "I was quite put out that I couldn't keep some of the Father and bring him back out on our one-year anniversary. You humans are so _perishable._" She paused, arrested, as a thought obviously occurred to her. "And do you know, that holy water didn't feel different from regular water at _all. _Charlatans, the lot of them."

I pushed up on my elbows, squinting. I had thought my heartbeat was making my body shake, but I realized that in fact there was a deep bass beat pounding through the floor. When I saw my clothes, I gasped. "What the hell?"

"Language," she chastised with a disapproving frown.

It took me a second to realize that she was serious. Great. The psychotic serial killer lacked tolerance for cursing. "I'm sorry." Shakily rising to my feet, I smoothed my mother's wedding gown over my stomach with sweaty palms.

After a moment, Victoria smiled. "It can't be helped. The modern world is an uncouth, barbaric place." She gave me an up-and-down once-over and grudgingly admitted, "You look rather pretty yourself. It's a pity you'll never know the excitement of taking a husband. You would make a lovely bride. It was the happiest day of my second life, when I promised James we would never be parted." Her mouth twisted with mingled grief and rage. "That's what your precious Edward took from me. My only love; my truest friend."

Yeah, that was what he'd taken from me, too. Funny how we had that in common.

I wanted Sam _so much._

I turned to look at my reflection. The gown remained beautiful… In fact, I realized with a fresh shock of fear, it had been recently cleaned. She had been in my house before today to retrieve it. My face had been made up heavily, eyes appearing huge with eyeliner and mascara, although she had a lighter hand with eye shadow than Jessica. My hair was a matted mess, however, caked with sawdust and piled on one side of my head.

Victoria noticed at the same moment. "Well, that must be remedied." Moving so quickly that I cried out in pain as the roots of my hair almost gave way, she grabbed a brush from a nearby table and styled my hair in a braid, then twisted it into a knot, jabbing in bobby pins at random. Clearly she'd planned this entire thing. "There. Now you're done."

I took a step forward and wobbled on the heels she had slipped onto my feet while I was unconscious. She fussed under her breath, batting the sawdust away from the satin. "Why… what is all this for? Aren't you going to slaughter me?" When I spoke the word "slaughter," my heart suddenly jumped into triple-time. This was it. I was going to die, and there was nothing anybody could do about it. Alice was gone, and Paul… oh God, _Paul._

_Please let him not be dead please let him not be dead, _I begged silently. Just because I couldn't stand him didn't mean I hoped for his demise. Poor Sam. This was too much. I revised my prayer to _please don't let Paul be dead, and don't let Sam kill himself when he finds out what happened. And let me live. It's one week to his birthday and I have to make it good for him._

"Oh, yes." Her smile widened into a feline grin. "I am _definitely _going to kill you. But! There's a catch."

Lovely. It was going to be a game. She and James must have been a perfect pair before Emmett and Jasper ripped his head from his shoulders. Still, if she wanted to play, that meant I might buy some time. Maybe Alice would accidentally catch a glimpse of what was going on, or Sam would be able to track us, or… something. I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing my father, or Sam, or Jessica, or Jake again. I owed it to them… I owed it to _myself _to stay alive as long as possible. "What's the catch?"

"I can never tell how much humans' dull ears can pick up. Do you hear the music?" I nodded. Victoria clapped her hands. "Wonderful! There's a party… no, what do you call it? A club? Going on down there. It's very _exciting_! I'm going to take you down there and dance with you. I'm sure those degenerates won't have a difficult time believing you and I came as a pair, in any case. I want you to have a _very good time, _Bella. Because…" She held up her alabaster palm, displaying a camcorder she must have retrieved too quickly for me to see. "I'm going to be recording this for posterity. I want your father to see what a beautiful time you had on your last night on earth, so he'll have some consolation when they pull your body from Puget Sound." She leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "I'm going to make it look like you ran away to meet Edward for a spur-of-the-moment wedding. That way your father will blame him and they'll _never _be able to return home again. In addition to your Byronic mate knowing he's the ostensible, as well as the practical, reason for your demise."

_He's not my mate, _floated across my brain, but I didn't speak the words. If she knew her revenge was pointless, she might lose interest and kill me now. At the same time, I realized, _Sam is. Sam's my mate_. I didn't have time to ponder that at the moment. Looking around again, I thought to ask, "Where's your friend? Riley, right?"

She sneered, if anything that hypnotic face did could earn such an indelicate description. "He was useless to me after he got his foot incinerated. So careless. I _had _a purpose for him… but I had to change my plans."

I didn't understand at first, then, "You killed him?"

"Twice." She twirled again. "If you count when I turned him."

Holy shit, I was so screwed.

_Sam._

I did my best to tamp down the despair that burgeoned in my chest and instead focused on hope. As long as my heart kept beating, I had that.

"Are you ready?" Victoria inquired with a sunny smile. "Let's dance! And be sure to look like you're having a good time or else I'll have to cut our evening short. I might not be overly careful with the other humans in the club, in that case."

I mustered up a smile, hoping it was convincing enough. "Let's go."

**( * * * )**

Down in the club, the music was so loud my ears literally ached within seconds of walking out of the stairwell. After a moment, I sorted out the sounds and realized the song was "Hollaback Girl." Around me, bodies gyrated en masse, barely illuminated by the erratic lighting pouring from the fixtures overhead. _This _was much more what I'd expected a club to be before I went to Port Angeles with the girls. Victoria and I wouldn't even draw a second glance in this crowd.

"Where are we?" I shouted to Victoria, who stood just behind me, camcorder in hand.

"You know where we are, love," she cooed back, and, like Alice, her mimicry of Edward hit every note perfectly. I flinched. "Seattle, just as you asked. Why don't you go ahead and dance?"

Surveying the room, squinting through the strobes and glow-in-the-dark jewelry, an instant's despair overwhelmed me. I couldn't do this.

Then Victoria leaned forward and hissed, "Dance. Choose a partner and dance."

"Hey, can I get you something to drink?" a male voice asked on my other side.

_Be convincing. Stay alive. _Turning, I saw a boy about my own age, hair spiked up at least six inches above his scalp. _Nice guyliner, _I heard Jessica comment in the back of my head with a snicker. He looked nice, though, so I said, "Sure!" and followed him to the bar. I knew, because I'd overheard Charlie talking, that I should order my own drinks and keep an eye on them to avoid getting drugged, but at this point that sort of precaution seemed redundant. Neon letters spelled out the club's name overhead. Sudden inspiration struck, and I focused on it in case Alice needed a destination.

"Beer okay?" he asked.

No, beer wasn't enough. "Shots!"

When he handed me two glasses, I drained them one right after the other and, as his eyes widened, asked, "Wanna dance?" Hell, if I was going to die, I might as well enjoy myself first. Nodding, the boy followed me out onto the floor. I _sucked _at dancing unless I was drunk, but the booze kicked in after a few minutes. Victoria didn't seem to have any objections to my performance, at least.

"Are you guys having a bachelorette party?" the guy, whose name was Aaron, asked after getting my name in return. He nodded toward Victoria, who was a way better dancer than either of us and managing to hold the camera steady to boot. Damn vampires.

Jessica once again took over my brain. "No, she's my wife," I shouted. "We just flew home from Massachusetts. We got married there." Maybe the shots were working faster than usual because of me already being totally freaked out. At his raised eyebrows, I laughed hysterically and added, "Don't worry; she thinks it's hot when I make out with guys."

The song changed; the DJ had started "Milkshake." While Kelis bragged about her superior... everything... Victoria shot a pointed glare my way. Well, if I couldn't escape, at least I could make sure everyone remembered me when the police came asking questions. Maybe I could clear Edward postmortem.

Before I could say anything, the guy dancing with me raised his hands overhead and yelled, "Hey, they just got married! Everybody congratulate Bella and her wife!"

Those around us whistled, cheered, and clapped. A bunch of people yelled, "Congratulations!"

_Damn right, it's better than yours  
>I can teach you, but I have to charge<em>

A second later, a server brought us champagne, compliments of some guy at the bar. Victoria looked like she wanted to vomit as she took the stem of the glass between her marble fingers.

"Sorry about that!" I called to her, reckless with adrenaline and alcohol, before tilting my own glass back.

_I know you want it  
>The thing that makes me<br>What the guys go crazy for_

When I lowered it again, she was looking at me speculatively. I'd better rein it in or she'd kill me sooner rather than later. A couple of guys who were obviously titillated by the idea of two girls getting it on danced on either side of me.

_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard  
>And they're like, it's better than yours<em>

Surrounded by sweaty people and flashing lights, I almost missed it, but just as I turned to look at Victoria, I caught the glimpse I needed: Alice, standing by the fire exit.

I blinked, and she was gone.

Maybe I had imagined it.

I knew it was completely unjustified, but a sudden wave of emotion at the possible reprieve surged through me with crippling force. My knees actually gave way for an instant, but the press of bodies kept me upright until I regained my balance. Trying not to give anything away, I stared at blindly overhead as I kept moving. At least my heartbeat wouldn't betray me. It couldn't possibly pound any faster than it had been already.

_Just know, thieves get caught  
>Watch if you're smart<em>

I let the guy behind me grab my ass so I could spin and shove him away, facing in the right direction without Victoria seeing my eyes.

Alice was there again, this time near the front door.

Oh, thank _God. _

I laughed in an ecstasy of relief and started dancing with twice my former enthusiasm. I was actually going to survive this. Probably. That didn't mean I could let down my guard.

Without warning, I felt claustrophobic. I'd never had a problem with enclosed spaces or groups of people, though I wasn't fond of them. Now, however, everything seemed to be closing in on me. They were too close. They were going to crush me. I was trapped and wouldn't be able to get out in time. What if there was a fire? I'd be…

_Then next his eyes are squint  
>Then he's picked up your scent<em>

Everyone around me was backing off. In fact, they all looked uneasy, glancing to the doors, avoiding touching each other.

"Dude," a girl with the lower half of her boobs hanging out of her tube top said to me, "Does this place feel really…. _small _to you?"

"Yeah, actually," I replied, surprised.

"This doesn't feel right," Victoria muttered, eyes wildly darting back and forth. "This is wrong."

"It _is _wrong," a boy in a designer track suit agreed, picking up speed as he headed for the nearest exit. When he hit the push bar, an alarm went off, filling the club with high-pitched beeping loud enough to be heard even over the music. As if it had flipped a switch, people started screaming and shoving on their way out. I was ready to join them, but Victoria clamped her fingers around my arm in an iron grip.

"No." Still searching the shadows, she stood completely still in a manner impossible for a human. Around us, the club emptied of people; even the bartenders jumped the counter, following their clientele.

We stood in the center of the dance floor, the lights sending multi-colored shimmers down the fronts of our dresses. Once the door slammed behind the final person, the strange claustrophobia vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. That was when I finally understood: Jasper was behind it.

"Let the girl go, Victoria," Alice ordered from across the room.

Instead, Victoria slung me over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and zoomed toward the other door, only to halt, hissing, as Jasper blocked her way. He didn't bother returning her antagonism, just calmly said, "I'd listen to what my wife said, if I were you, Victoria."

She made a noise like a frustrated cat and spun around, darting toward the steps, but Alice was already there. Again Victoria moved like lightning to evade her, but when she headed for the exit Alice had left unguarded, a third opponent stood in her path.

"Sam!" I gasped, equal parts terror and delight rushing through me at the sight of the monstrous black wolf looming at the door. He must have phased after he came in, but I'd been too busy watching Alice to notice.

"I'm going to give you a choice, Victoria," Jasper drawled, ambling closer. "You can leave her alone—forever—or you can die. Up to you."

Sam growled. Clearly he wasn't in favor of this bargain.

"And if I find another option?" Victoria spat, one hand on my windpipe as she backed away.

A flash of sadness crossed Jasper's impossibly handsome features, gone so fast I barely caught it. "Then I'm afraid I'll be forced to choose for you. I hope you won't allow things to progress that far, ma'am."

Sam growled again, teeth bared. Victoria's fingers tightened around my throat.

"Jasper Jasper Jasper she's _going to do it_!" Alice trilled, almost faster than I could hear.

Instantly, a wave of calm and happiness surged into the core of my being. Everything was fine. Everything was wonderful. I had never been safer or more delighted with my life.

Victoria felt it too. Her cold stone arms dropped, and a goofy smile spread across her flawless face. "That's lovely," she said to no one in particular.

"Yes it is," Jasper agreed, coming to offer his arm to me. "Miss Bella, would you care to accompany me outdoors?"

"Okay." I hooked my hand in his elbow and beamed up at him. "You're so nice."

"I'm pleased you think so." As he led me to the door, I saw Sam and Alice advance on Victoria, who stood swaying stupidly on her feet, still smiling.

"Aren't we staying? We could dance." I stumbled in the unfamiliar shoes.

"You won't want to watch this," Jasper told me, "and neither will I." He escorted me outside just as I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sam lunge for Victoria's ankles. The sound of rending metal followed us into the chill of night. Not even when flames showed yellow through the dark-tinted doors did Victoria cry out.

**( * * * )**

As soon as Sam came out of the club, I threw myself at him, sobbing. He put one arm around me but didn't say anything. Embry and Jared rounded the corner a few seconds later. "I want to go home," I wailed, and that seemed to be a goal upon which we could all agree.

Alice gave me the keys to the Mercedes. She offered to let me keep it, but I refused.

"I like my truck, Alice."

"Fine. Drive the death trap. It's the least dangerous thing you'll have done in the past year." After a second of staring at me with her peculiarly wide-eyed gaze, she added soft-voiced, "He's going to come back, you know. To check on you. He hasn't decided yet how to do it, but he's going to."

No need to ask who "he" was. I inhaled sharply, trying to shove down the stab of pain in my chest. "Can you stop him?"

"Do you _want _me to?" she asked.

I looked at Sam. He was standing with his back to me, talking to Embry and Jared, but I felt certain he was listening to every word. "Yes, please. If I've got a choice, I'll choose to be away from him." Looking back to Alice, I saw her distress and tried to explain. "He's like a drug to me, Alice. I can't... I need to live life sober now."

She didn't seem to understand. "But, Bella-"

I stepped back hastily from her outstretched hand. Jasper had undone his effect on me with no effort at all, but I didn't want to risk a repeat of this afternoon. "I love you Alice." I indicated Sam with a nod. "But I need to make sure that I don't forget how much I love him."

After a long moment, she nodded in acknowledgment, but I had a feeling she would never understand.

I drove back to Forks, with Sam sitting next to me and Jared and Embry draped across each other, asleep in the backseat. Sam asked if I wanted him to take the wheel, but I told him I needed the control. The Mercedes had a GPS system, so I just typed in my address and followed its directions. We sat in silence, a weird emotional distance keeping us apart, while the disembodied voice told me which turns to take. Once we were out of town I turned off the vocal instructions and asked, "How did you find me?" As soon as I said the words, I realized that wasn't the question I really wanted answered, but Sam spoke before I could revise myself.

"Alice and—Jasper?" At my nod, he continued, "They lied when they said they were about to fly out of Portland. I don't think they knew I could understand them when they were talking it over at your house. They were really going to hang around and keep an eye on you, but Alice caught a glimpse of the redhead dragging you into that club. They were going to go get you by themselves, but the redhead always found an exit in all the scenarios they tried to decide on. Even when he decided to use his emotion trick, it didn't work. Victoria would come to her senses and escape right before they ripped her head off, or some innocent bystander would come through the back door because they felt safe, or _something_. That is, until Alice thought of contacting us. Even though she couldn't see the outcome of the fight itself because we were involved, she could see that you would survive." His voice was completely level, as per usual, but I could feel the resentment behind his words. "I was already going completely insane, trying to figure out where you were."

"How's Paul?" I braced myself, but he laughed shortly.

"Fine. Currently making Sue Clearwater's life a living hell, as far as I can tell. They're at my house. Did you know she knows about us?" I nodded. "I didn't. Anyway, Paul's fine. If he didn't have our capabilities, he would have suffocated since he was paralyzed below the neck, but the right nerves healed before that happened. Mostly he just feels like shit that he didn't stop the vampire from getting to you. I already knew who'd taken you, of course, but I didn't know where, and the fucking council…" He stopped talking and breathed for a moment, then continued with forced calm, "There was some question about whether or not the Cullens were staying, and if they _were_ staying, whether or not it would be all right for me to phase off the reservation's land in order to go after you."

"They wanted you to stay to protect the rez." I thought about it. "Well, that makes sense."

Now some of his latent fury leaked into his voice. "Fuck sense. The only vampire who posed a danger to any of us at the moment had an innocent girl hostage and they wouldn't let me go after her."

I moved to put my hand over his, but he withdrew it before we touched. Stung, I put it back on the wheel. "So Alice came for you?"

"She did, and she killed the treaty once and for all. She said they have no intention of ever returning to Forks, so it wasn't an issue anymore. I can tell you this, if they change their minds, I'm leaving instructions for things to be very, very different." After a grim silence he added, "So we came up to take her out. After Jasper emptied the club… Well, you saw. Jared watched the back entrance to keep anyone from coming in at the wrong moment. Embry took the side."

"Yeah." I felt fuzzy, but it wasn't intoxication. Jasper had cleared my head of the lingering effects of what I'd drunk before I turned the key in the ignition. Fleetingly, I wondered if maybe it was something to do with his emotional manipulation. Glancing at Sam, I tried to fight through the cotton wadding that seemed to have replaced my brain and figure out what was wrong. I tried, "Are you mad at me because Paul got hurt?"

"Mad at you?" He gave me an incredulous stare. "No. Why would I be?"

I shrugged. "I can't figure out what you're thinking. Do you want to tell me?"

He remained quiet for so long that I gave up on ever getting an answer from him and concentrated on the road instead.

After about fifteen miles, he confessed, so low-voiced I could barely hear him, "I can't stop tasting her venom on my teeth."

I nearly swerved off the road. "She _bit _you?"

"No, it's the stuff they have inside of them instead of blood. Alice called it venom, but it's not poisonous, so I don't know how that could be." His face twisted. "I had to pull her arms out of her sockets. She just stood there the whole time with that smile on her face, even after I bit her head clear of her shoulders…" He trailed off and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. "She _looked _human, Bella."

That he might experience remorse had never occurred to me. I was so relieved to be free of Victoria's threat that I didn't consider how terrible it must have been to dismember someone who stood there and allowed it without a fight. "Oh God. Sam, I'm so sorry." I pulled over to the shoulder and crawled over to his side, pulling him into my arms. "Come here. I've got you." There wasn't much I could do for him, not in this situation, but I could make sure he knew he wasn't alone anymore.

Sam turned his face into my shoulder, and let me hold him until the tremors faded. When at last I returned to the driver's seat, he said, "I just felt someone new phase. I need to get out of the car and order whoever it is to stay put."

**( * * * )**

It was still faster to drive than for Sam to run, so he stayed in the car with me, but I could feel him vibrating with tension all the way home. When we got to La Push, he couldn't stay with me, of course. He had to hunt down Jacob. That task was made somewhat easier because Paul had dragged himself outside and phased to calm his brother as much as he could. I found that out when a furious Sue Clearwater met us at Sam's house, demanding that he force Paul back to bed. Sam complied.

Victoria had taken my phone, but Sue let me use hers to call Charlie and tell him I was in La Push. He chastised me for not calling before. After I apologized a few times, though, he let it go, especially since I was "spending the night at the Clearwaters'." I actually spent the rest of the night helping Sue nurse Paul, who was nowhere near enough recovered to have done what he did.

Just as dawn began to peek below the cloud cover, Sam staggered in, bringing Jacob with him. They were both covered in mud and stark naked. I stared at Sam in a moment of sleep-deprived appreciation before I remembered Sue was there and blushed. Jacob's long hair was tangled with twigs and pine needles and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. His breath came out sounding like sobs.

"Is it safe to have him in here, Sam?" Sue wondered quietly, pulling the blankets more securely over Paul as she spoke.

"I've Alpha ordered him not to phase again till this afternoon," Sam replied. "He needs to sleep." He guided Jacob into the bed on top of the covers, next to Paul, who didn't even twitch an eyelid. "Thanks for all your help, Sue. You should probably get some rest too, though."

"You're right about that," she agreed absentmindedly, bending to wipe a damp cloth over Jacob's forehead. "Are you sure he's all right?"

There was a long, heavy pause, and then Sam said, "He's as good as he's going to get."

After Sue left, Sam turned to me. "I'm sorry there's no place for you to sleep now." Behind him, Jacob and Paul shifted, their bodies unconsciously moving closer like puppies from the same litter.

I shook my head. "I'm not tired. Too keyed up."

"I have to phase back, just so I can keep an eye on the rez while Jared and Embry are sleeping, but don't worry. I'll be near the house."

I wanted to fling myself at his chest and bawl again, but instead I managed to nod and say, "Okay."

He pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. "Try to get some rest."

I did try, but every time I closed my eyes I saw Victoria, saying, "Now we'll have some fun," and that pretty much killed my chances for sleep. After a while, I saw a shadow move across the gap between the front door and the floor. Opening the door, I beheld Sam, in wolf form, settling down with his head between his front paws. He pricked up his ears when he saw me.

"Mind if I join you?" I whispered.

He scrambled to his feet and looked as if he was going to leave.

Swallowing the automatic rejection, I realized what was going on: whatever part of the man remained must fear hurting me even more when he was in this form. "It's okay, Sam. You're not going to hurt me. No one's mad." He still looked ready to leap away, but I begged, "Please stay. I, um, I need you. A lot."

At last, he lay back down, reluctance clear in the motion. I sat on the other end of the porch, knees drawn up to my chest. "So… you killed your first vampire tonight. I almost died. Paul almost died. Jacob phased. This has to be your second-worst night ever." I swallowed. "But… you saved me, Sam. Sure, you had help, but considering that hanging out with vampires got me into this mess in the first place, it's only fair that they help get me out of it, too, right? I hope you don't think that makes what you did any less awesome." He whuffled a little through his nose. I scooted closer. "I knew I had to stay alive. I was so scared about what it would do to you if I didn't. And, this was pretty cool: I wanted to stay alive for my own sake, too. Are you proud of me?" He flicked his ears up and gave me a wolf-smile. "I remember when you told me that you'd found something to live for, and that's what pulled you through after Emily."

Hoping he wouldn't object, I inched nearer. "I know it's good to want to live for my own sake, because no matter what happens, I'll always have me. But, I kind of realized something else, and it's that, um, I really want to live for you, too. If you're okay with that. Because I think you're amazing. You're… This is going to sound super-cheesy, but hell, I almost died tonight so screw it. You're my hero. For real. I know I told you I loved you and I meant it, but I want you to know this too. You're my hero and you make me want to stay alive and I know that's not very romantic but it's six in the morning and that's all I've got." My voice cracked and tears started overflowing from my eyes. "I was so scared about what would happen to you if I died, Sam—"

I stopped because he had risen and was stalking toward me. It only took a couple of steps for the wolf to cross the porch. I went immobile, wondering what he was thinking—Sam seemed to consider him a separate consciousness, so just because I knew the man loved me didn't mean the wolf would be careful. Although... Sam had seemed to think the wolf was coming around.

Standing above me, the wolf sniffed my hair, and then started moving down, running his nose over my face, my neck, my chest, and so on, until he had covered what felt like every inch of the front of my body. He nudged me with his muzzle till I got up, and then did the same to my back. Finally, he pushed me till I turned to face him again, and examined the scars on my face, then licked them, over and over again, until my skin felt raw and chapped under his tongue. I didn't move to stop him, though; I instinctively felt that this was important. Plus, this was the most interest the wolf had ever demonstrated toward me. It had to mean something—hopefully something good.

He butted me with his head, hard enough to make me sit down. I stared up at him, trying to decide if I should feel more afraid than I did. The wolf gave me a tiny shove with his muzzle again. Frowning, I stared at the porch boards beneath me, trying to work out what he wanted. He did it again. A fleeting image skipped through my mind: a dog on its back, belly exposed.

I gasped, and then released my breath in a shuddering sigh. He wanted to know if I trusted him.

Well, did I? After all, it was the wolf that had harmed Emily so terribly... But then again, it was the wolf that had torn apart Victoria tonight, who had saved me the night she found me in the forest. The wolf was frightening, yes, but the things that made it scary were the same things that made it such an excellent protector. When Sam had let it hurt Emily, he hadn't yet made it bend to his will. It was an animal, so it wouldn't have understood why Emily wouldn't yield. Now, though, it was restrained on the leash of Sam's control, and_ I_ wasn't fighting with him.

_Sam's my mate. _Did I want the wolf, or did I just want Sam? If I turned down the wolf, was I turning down a part of Sam?

_Yes. _I knew it on the same level on which I knew what it wanted from me. Sam might wish he could deny it, but who he was had been irrevocably changed by his phasing.

Okay. The wolf had saved me. The wolf wanted me. So I wanted the wolf.

Accordingly, I lay on my back, keeping my eyes averted as the cold seeped into my bones through the floorboards. He nudged my face, and I turned my head, revealing my entire neck to him in the final revelation of trust. One big paw came to rest, lightly, upon my chest. I sighed again, this time with relief.

With one final lick, the wolf raised its paw again and moved to curl against me, surrounding me with heat even in the January freeze. I relaxed and sat up, leaning into him. He was so big he easily encircled my whole body. Automatically, I reached to stroke his head, and scratched behind his ears, which were bigger than my hand. He went limp, eyes drifting half-closed. "As long as I have you, I can keep it together. Just let me stay with you, okay?"

Sam rumbled in response. I settled into the curve of his body and, lulled by the rhythm of his breathing, fell asleep right there on the porch.

**# # #**

**A/N #2: An epilogue's coming, and then I'm marking this baby complete...**


	18. Epilogue: Moving On

**A/N: It's the last real update, although there'll be two or three outtakes soon. Thanks so much to cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, Naranwien, and WolfGirlAtHeart for beta'ing this fic, and to BellaFlan for prereading. Thanks to cretin, grrlinterrupted, HoochieMomma, and Naranwien for indulging me with wonderful outtakes for a fic that wasn't theirs. Thanks to all of you who read, reviewed, rec'd, and any other "r" words that I'm forgetting. You've given this story a far better reception than I expected (or likely deserved), and I'm really grateful.**

**Also, HUGE thanks to those of you who nominated Holding Sam and Return to Sender for the Jacob Black-N-Pack Summer 2011 Awards. That's super awesome and I haven't stopped smiling since I found out about it.**

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The song for this chapter is "Made You Move" by Lykke Li. The poodle is for Ling Ling 2468.**

**# # #**

When I woke up, I was in Sam's bed, still surrounded by him, but in human form this time. It wasn't until I rolled over that I realized I was only in my underwear. Looking up, I saw Sam awake, returning my gaze somberly.

"I figured you didn't want to stay in that wedding dress," he explained. "You slept through me taking it off."

It was a good thing I'd left some clothes at Sam's the week before. "Oh, so that's the reason you're going with?" I teased, and then let my smile fade when he didn't respond. "What's wrong? Is it still Victoria?" It would make sense if took him a while to recover from that.

He shook his head, though. "No. She needed to die. Or… whatever it is they do. I'm okay with it now."

"Then what is it?"

He wouldn't tell me, though. I went home in the Mercedes, more puzzled than ever, and barely remembered to park two blocks away so Charlie wouldn't ask questions about the car.

( * * * )

I'd discovered that Sam's birthday was on Friday, so when I didn't see him by Wednesday I drove up to La Push after school. I needed to ask him what he wanted to do to celebrate. Before I left town, though, I stopped by my house and gathered up a few things to show him.

When I pulled up to his house, he was already waiting, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, face expressionless. A thrill of fear shot through me. It was too much like my birthday, too much like Edward before he'd gone away. I got out and wiped suddenly sweaty palms against my jeans, swallowing hard.

Sam frowned when I approached him. "What's the matter? Your heart's going a million miles an hour."

Coming to a halt on the top step, I steeled myself to just ask outright. "Are you trying to figure out how to break up with me?"

He straightened, clearly incredulous. "No! What the hell gave you that idea?"

For some reason, his reaction didn't make me feel better. "I don't know. Well, I mean, yeah I do. You're just so… distant. Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he said again, and walked over to pull me up into an embrace. "You're amazing. I've been meaning to tell you that. I saw you there, dancing for that crazy bloodsucking bitch, and you impressed the hell out of me. You're so smart. I can't believe you kept yourself alive until we could get to you—well, yes I can. But you're incredible."

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I let myself believe him, and felt some of the sick tension ease in my stomach and throat. But still… "Thank you. I think you're amazing yourself. I know there's something wrong, though."

"Yeah." He set me down gently and turned to the house, walking through the door as he spoke. "Come inside and we can talk."

That sounded ominous. I bit my lip and obeyed, closing the door behind me before following him to the bedroom. When I got there, he was already sitting on the bed's edge. Hesitantly, I came over and sat beside him. He picked up my keys and fiddled with them, and then frowned at the keychain. "Is this new?"

"Um, yeah." Poking the little plastic poodle with one finger, I elaborated, "I told Jessica that I was helping take care of Paul the other night, because he got hurt in a cliff-diving accident. She knows he's been a dick to me so she bought him that as a get-well present. I decided it'd be more tactful just to keep it for myself, though. She doesn't care." Sam didn't smile, so I stopped talking.

After a second of awkward silence, he sighed and said, "I don't know how to tell you this."

"Well, figure it out before I pass out or throw up," I snapped, made edgy by fear and nerves.

He didn't react to my tone, just sighed again and said, "My wolf…"

I waited, and then prompted, "Yeah?"

Sam buried his face in his hands and said in muffled tones, "My wolf thinks we're related. Like, part of the same pack. Like, you're a relative of Emily's."

Dumbfounded, I sat in silence, ready for him to elaborate, but that was all he seemed ready to say. At last, I said cautiously, "Okay… is that bad? I mean, my dad _is_ really distantly related to the Atearas…"

"I know." He raised his head. "And they're related to the Clearwaters, who are related to the Uleys because of Sue, but they're also related to the Blacks…"

I felt a grimace on my face but couldn't seem to wipe it off. "Ew. That's kind of weird."

"It's not as close as you might think." Sam ran a hand through his hair—it was getting shaggy, I noticed distantly. I would have to help him cut it soon. "But I guess… It's the blood thing."

The blood thing? "You mean like the dreams I have?" Although, I really hadn't had one in weeks.

Now it was his turn to grimace. "Sort of. I think that first night got it to pay attention to you, but it still wasn't interested until we slept together."

That made no sense. There hadn't been any blood then. "Why?"

He blushed so deeply, I could see the color creep up his neck. "Because I was your first."

I wanted to laugh, but he looked so embarrassed that I folded my lips in on themselves until I could be sure I wouldn't give into the impulse. "Um… That's a little caveman-ish of you. Him. Whatever."

Sheepishly, he shrugged. "It's an animal. What can I say?"

"Okay. So he started to notice me after we had sex."

"Well, I take it back. A little before then. It felt protective of you. Remember that night when you were talking to me? To it? After your bad dream?"

The night before he'd seen Emily again. I nodded slowly.

"It started to like you then, because you talked to it. It doesn't have much experience with girls. But yeah, for the most part it just wanted to keep you safe, until we slept together. It's been coming around, but then when I went inside that club in Seattle and phased, it saw you there with the redhead and, um, it talked. To me."

My eyes widened in fascination. "Oh my God. Do you have conversations with him?"

Sam's face grew even redder. "Uh… yeah. I swear to God I'm not nuts."

I giggled. "I can't make the same promise to you. After all, I talked to my ex-boyfriend's pretend voice for _weeks._"

With a relieved chuckle, he reached out and lifted me onto his lap, and just like that everything was okay. Looping my arms around his neck, I kissed his chest and asked, "So. Was this the first time he talked to you about me?"

"Yeah. I mean, it paid attention, but it never had anything it thought was worth saying about you until it saw you there that night."

"What'd he say?"

Sam went silent, kissing the top of my head and rocking me a little.

"Sam?" I asked gently after a minute.

Reluctantly, the word finally came, stirring my hair as he breathed it. "'Mine.'"

"And that's… wrong?" I asked.

"It's what it says about Emily when it sees her. Of course, it kind of thinks that way about the other boys in the pack, too, though it's not as grabby. It's more like it _knows_ they belong to it so it doesn't feel like it has to say anything about it."

I thought about that, oddly flattered by the wolf's possessiveness. "Okay. Sweet. So he wants me to be part of the pack too. That's a good thing."

He laughed, but it sounded like a sob. "No, it's _not._"

Leaning back, I examined his face for a clue. "Tell me why not. I don't get it."

It wasn't easy for him to say, clearly, but he got it out after another brief struggle. "I wanted you to be… No, I mean, I wanted it to be only _me _who chose you."

Okay, well, that was fully understandable. I took a deep breath, searching for a way to make it better. Finally, I said the only truth that came to mind. "Sam… I think he _is _you." He stiffened head to toe. I raised my hand to his face and continued, "I know that isn't something you want to think about, but the truth is, he's still you. I can tell by the way you talk about him, and I _know _you, Sam. I know that every time we've been together, you've been holding back. And I'm not complaining about it, but… I just think that if the human Sam was the only real Sam, then I wouldn't feel you fighting with yourself every time we have sex, or tease, or… I think everyone has an animal inside of them, it's just that yours is more obvious than most. For real."

He kissed my palm absentmindedly as he thought. I leaned against his chest again and waited him out, listening to the sound of his breathing, steady and sure.

After a minute or two, his voice vibrated under my ear. "Would you… you really don't mind?"

"No, I really don't." I kissed his breastbone. "I think it's kind of awesome, actually, that all of you wants me. It's a little bit weird that you do, and I'm not sure I'll ever think I deserve it, but I'm too selfish not to take it. I'm not scared of it, if that's what has you worried. You were in a _club, _Sam, with a vampire right in front of you, and you didn't do anything that could possibly have endangered me. You worked _with _your worst enemies to save me, even."

"I'm still not sure what it means about the imprint," he said heavily, arms tightening fractionally around me. "I don't know if it'll think that Emily's more 'mine' than you, or _what. _I mean, it's decided that you're part of the pack, and since you're the available female, it's decided that you're its mate, but I have no idea how it thinks of Emily now because it only ever thinks of her when she's right in front of me."

It wasn't really a laughing matter, but I heard the shadow of laughter in my voice as I suggested, "So keep your back turned."

He snorted, and this time it sounded like genuine humor. "Right. I'll make sure to do that."

I leaned back again, smiling up at him. "As long as you make your best effort, I swear I'll never hold what's out of your control against you. How's that?" At first, I couldn't interpret the strange mix of emotions that ran over his face, but it dawned on me that he was overwhelmed when he opened his mouth and nothing came out. I kissed him so he wouldn't feel embarrassed. "It's fine, Sam. Promise." With a shaky sigh against my lips, he kissed me back.

The last thing I wanted to do was stop, but I had to tell him something. Reluctantly pulling away, I slid off the bed to stand before him. "Wait for a second? I found some things and I need to show them to you."

Clearly I had mystified him, but he just nodded and let me go out to the truck alone. When I returned, his head jerked back and his nostrils wrinkled in automatic disgust. "Did Alice send you a gift?"

Shaking my head, I crossed the room to lay my burden on the bed in front of him. He stared as I fanned them out: a CD. Two plane tickets to Jacksonville. Photographs.

Together, we gazed down in silence, which I broke when I told him, soft-voiced, "I tripped on my own feet this morning and fell in my bedroom. I noticed one of my floorboards was uneven with the others, and when I lifted it, I found these. Birthday presents from him and his family, and the pictures. I thought he took these with him when he left, or threw them away, but instead he left it all in my room."

Sam's jaw set. I didn't realize how livid he was, though, until he spoke between his teeth. "He stole your things and left them right under your nose."

When he put it like that, it sounded really messed up. Confused, I shook my head and tried to talk it through. "He must have… I don't know, but he wasn't into mind games…" But he'd said he loved me, that I was his life, and then he'd said I wasn't interesting enough to hold him. That was kind of a mind game, wasn't it? "Maybe he thought it was wrong to steal, but he didn't want me to have the reminders lying around?"

Sam looked up to meet my gaze. I swallowed at the sight of the firmly banked fury in his eyes. "What are you going to do?"

I shrugged. "I can't figure out what I should do. That's why I brought it here."

"Destroy it," he replied simply. "Trash it all. He already took all this from you when he left, whether or not he left it in your house. Don't look back."

He was right. I wouldn't want him to keep photographs of Emily around, or old presents from her parents, that was for damn sure. Swallowing, I asked, "Would you please do it for me? Put it somewhere I can't find it, no matter how hard I try? Not that I want to try, it's just—"

"I understand." With that, he disappeared, and the items on the bed went with him.

Right. He did understand. Sam always understood me, just as much as I understood him.

I kicked off my shoes and socks. Pulling my knees up to my chin and holding tight, I listened for his return. I didn't have to wait long before I heard the front door open and shut for the second time, and then Sam appeared again. Standing in the middle of the room, he told me, "It's done."

I hadn't realized how much the knowledge of the memorabilia weighed me down until the heaviness lifted off my shoulders at his words. Lightheaded, I shivered and pulled in on myself more. "Thank you," I said, but my voice trembled.

"Of course." He sat down next to me again. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. I think I am." Hopelessly confused, I looked at him for guidance. "I wish I could figure him out."

"You don't have to figure him out anymore." Sam moved so quickly I only saw a blur. Before I knew what was happening, I lay flat on my stomach on the bed, and he was on top of me, murmuring in my ear, "Because you're _mine_ now."

I held my breath for a second, wondering if I'd made him mad with my weirdness over Edward, but his hands conveyed nothing but absolute confidence as they moved over me and under us, working their way beneath my shirt. Turning my head, I met his mouth with my own, feeling my whole body go limp with relief. I should have known better. To Sam, _mine _didn't mean a need to prove possession. It meant that if I wondered, all I had to do was ask, and he would give me an honest answer. It meant he was there to keep me safe, even from myself, if I wanted that. It meant he would give me whatever was in his power, simply because he'd chosen me. I was _his_, but only because he'd made himself _mine_.

The strangely complimentary forces of total trust and heady arousal combined to make me whimper against his lips. I felt his answering rumble against my back more than I heard it as his palms covered my breasts. It wasn't enough. I wriggled to free my arms and pull my shirt off, and then sighed in relief when we were skin-to-skin. Sam kissed my shoulders and the back of my neck, easing off me so that I could undo the button of my jeans and push them downward with my underwear. After he helped me get them off, and removed his cutoffs, he rolled me over and pinned my arms overhead, easily holding them with one big hand. It was such a natural move that I didn't think about it till he froze, gazing at my bound wrists like he didn't know how they had come to be in that position.

"Hey," I whispered before he could start second-guessing himself. "Sam, look at me." When he obeyed, I smiled at him. "I'm all yours." His eyes smiled back, but he still didn't move. The way he held me down was making my breath come fast and shaky while my heart thudded in my chest. Motivated purely by instinct and frustration, I tilted my head up and bit his jaw, hard.

That did it.

With a growl, Sam flipped me again and yanked my hips up, plunging inside me without warning. I was ready for him, though, and pushed back. We'd never used this position before, and I knew it was because he had wanted to be able to see my face, make sure he wasn't hurting me. His fingers dug into my hips as he pulled out and then shoved into me again, harder than the first time, over and over again. Moaning, I clutched at the sheets for balance, only to have him press me down into the mattress with one hand in the center of my back. For the first time ever, I could tell he wasn't being careful, and wasn't worried about it. I'd been right—he'd always held back, but this time he was really giving me all of himself, and that turned me on like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

Sam shifted angles and started hitting a spot that made me cry out and writhe beneath him. When he slid the hand on my hip forward to rub between my legs, I didn't even understand the words I knew I screamed. I would have collapsed, but Sam wouldn't let me, burying his other hand in my hair and pulling me back on my knees while he thrust. To my shock, I felt that same familiar clenching in my stomach rebuilding until, when he sank as deeply as he could go and shuddered with his own orgasm, I followed him once more.

As we lay together, panting, I found the strength to gasp out, "Don't you dare apologize."

He breathlessly chuckled. "No."

I almost fell asleep, but then remembered my original reason for coming up to see him. "Oh, hey!" Re-energized by the recollection, I rolled to face him. "I nearly forgot why I drove here. What do you want to do for your birthday? Do you want a party? We could do it at my place, if you'd like. I know Charlie wouldn't mind. Or we could do it here, if it's more convenient not to leave the rez."

He kissed my forehead, obviously thinking about it. "Actually… we've never been on a real date."

I blinked. "Oh." The truth of the statement had me giggling. "Some girlfriend I am. I've never shown my boyfriend a good time."

"The past twenty minutes were pretty damn good," he contradicted with a smile. "But, I think that's what I want."

I raised my eyebrows. "Dinner and a movie?"

He shrugged, amusement lighting up his eyes. "Better late than never."

"Oh!" I exclaimed with mock enthusiasm. "I know! We can see _The New World_!"

He laughed outright at that, yanking me into his arms. "I was thinking more something that wouldn't piss either of us off."

"_Brokeback Mountain_?"

"Can't have that," Sam replied solemnly. "What if I cry in the theater?"

"_Hostel_?"

"You'll pass out."

"Will not. I've probably seen worse in person." I traced the thin pink line Victoria had left on his shoulder.

"Probably," he agreed, kissing my scarred cheek tenderly.

"How about we just decide when we get there?" I caught his lips with my own and kissed him before he pulled back. "We'll just go with whatever looks good at the moment."

"Sure. As long as I've got you, I'm pretty much guaranteed to have the best birthday I've had in, I dunno, years."

"You've got me for as long as you want me to stick around," I said, trying to speak lightly.

I waited for him to respond, but after a moment I realized his breath had gone deep and steady. He was asleep. Still smiling, I snuggled up to his heat and followed him into oblivion, holding him as closely as I could.


	19. Charlie, Outtake 1: Getting Back

**A/N: This is something grrlinterrupted wrote on my request, because she is _way _too kind to me. I wanted background on just why Charlie and Sam had such a good relationship even before Sam and Bella began dating. I knew the bare details, but she fleshed them out and gave them a heart here. Leave her some love, if you would, because I think she did a fantastic job. Plus, Charlie makes my heart melt. :-)**

**# # #**

I just got her back. I just _got her back_.

I lean against my patrol car for a moment, facing into the sharp lights of Billy's truck, because I can blame the water in my eyes on them, even if I have to squint and clamp my back teeth. And if I grab on to the door mirror hard enough I can stop myself from running into those damn woods and searching for my baby until I can't walk or see or...

"We'll find her, Charlie."

Billy's hand on my arm momentarily pulls at my concentration. I can't have comfort right now; it'll make me break down. I nod, acknowledging his words and shift away, pretending to run a hand through my hair so he doesn't feel shrugged off. My radio crackles and it's at my mouth before I even tell my hand to move.

"Chief Swan? This is Search and Rescue, come in? Over."

My stomach tightens, like it's preparing for a fist.

"10-2, Swan here."

"Chief, we got nothing in sector four. We're coming back in to swap teams and recalculate perimeters. Over."

I stare at the lights again, opening my eyes wide so I can fight down the panic.

"10-4. Over."

"Over and out."

Billy's jaw sets and his hands reach for his wheels. It's already five in the morning, and cold as hell.

"I'm going to get us both some coffee," he says, as a large truck pulls up with the park service logo on the side. I jog over to the window.

"I need the chopper. Now, right now."

The man inside is lithe and graying, taller than I expected as he steps from the cab. His name tape reads "Clark."

"I ordered it ten minutes ago; should be airborne shortly. We'll give the teams as much light as we can over the new sectors."

I can see the pity in his eyes as he takes in my expression. I probably look desperate, half manic. I can feel the little muscles around my eyes twitching and my lips seem bent in a permanent grimace. I didn't even introduce myself, as I realize with a frown how obvious my identity is—I doubt anyone would even need my name badge to know.

"Show me the new areas."

I'm done suggesting anything by this point. I stride over to the hood of my car, where the map of the forest is spread out and marked with my—_our—_house and her possible routes into the woods. The ranger outlines the new plan; scouting out further areas along the lines of trails and deer runs Bella might have taken. There's just too much forest now to cover every inch, like they were when we were closer to home—even I know that. It makes my throat feel like it's closing. The only thing that distracts me enough not to retch is the sound of rotor blades ahead. The pilot passes over us and continues to the black blanket of trees.

"It's going to start sweeping the searched areas while the teams regroup, just double checking, then head out deeper."

I nod.

"They're the best, Chief. I've been up with them myself. No one is better qualified to find your daughter."

I know he's trying to reassure me, so I take a breath and force myself to thank him. It's not that I don't want to. I want to grab him, and every person out there searching for Bella and offer them my house and car, my savings, my fucking kidneys, if they bring my girl back.

I hand him the picture of Bella her mom sent me from the school photo day just before Spring Break. She's sitting a little awkwardly, with her hands clasped on her knees; posed. It's such a contrast to her softly flowing brown hair, which sweeps over her shoulders, the same exact color as mine. She looks beautiful, and so grown up. Seventeen.

When the fuck did that happen? How the fuck could I expect her to stay, to want to be here, when she's spent about a year of her life, total, with me? But I _just_ got her back... If she could just _try_...

I cringe, gripping the door mirror again and staring at the lights. Maybe I'm not so much to her, but it's not the same for me. And if she comes back to me...

I cut that thought off. I can't have a future or a past right now. It won't help.

I take the coffee Billy offers, and swallow it in one gulp, shaking my head against the bitter taste. The sugar he's heaped in makes me wince, but I can feel it push into my bloodstream, forcing my aching eyes open wide.

I hear a rattle, and glance over at the map. Little spots of rain dot the surface, patting the paper down. It gets heavier as I stare.

"The tree cover's very good out there, Chief." Ranger Clark appears at my side. "She'll certainly take shelter if she can, I'm sure of it." His voice wavers. "And it's still warm now. Don't lose hope."

Anger blooms in my chest and I round on him, forcing him back with my stance.

"What the fuck? _Lose hope_? I'll be out here till Christmas if she doesn't come home. That's my daughter out there. Do you under-"

"Charlie."

Billy's hand on my arm again. The Ranger's pity. The rain's soft, relentless patter.

I stride off towards the edge of the forest, needing some distance for a moment to try and wind up the tangled threads of my sanity. As soon as I'm alone and in the dark, my eyes betray me and tears paired with gulped sobs assault my aching body.

We've been here, looking, for thirty hours. And somewhere, out in that endless blackness my little girl is wandering alone in fucking _tennis shoes_, with no food or water, no shelter, no warm clothing, no flashlight, map or survival experience.

No chance?

I lift my head, watching the blur of rangers, cops, friends and volunteers move around our makeshift base of operations, and speak quietly to the silent forest.

"Please don't hurt her. Please just let her be. We're coming to get her, I promise. Just give us enough time."

The sound of the rain damps my words. I push my fingers into my wet eyes.

"I _just_ got her back."

Billy finds me a half hour later, a look of determination on his face.

"I've sent out our boys to look, too, while they're, uh, hunting." he says. "Sam Uley's coordinating them. They know the trees, Charlie. Practically know each single one. We'll find her."

"Sam?" I question. He nods.

"He's a good kid. Real mature for his age and_—_"

"I know," I interrupt. "I know Sam."

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, I feel something resembling hope.

_The call comes in around midnight, as usual. I don't have to deal with much crime here in Forks, but I've had plenty of practice with D&Ds over the years. One of the worst is Allison Uley. I find her passed out against a road sign about fifty yards from Mill Creek Bar. She's lost one of her shoes, most of her make-up and all her dignity. I crouch down next to her._

"_Hey, Allison? Mrs. Uley? Time to wake up." _

_I shake her shoulder gently, then a little harder when I get no response. Eventually, her eyes open, the whites yellowed from liver damage. She half-grins._

"_Why, Chief Charlie! So nice to see you."_

_She reaches up a hand which smells of old tobacco and strokes my mustache. I jerk my head back. We do this every damn time._

"_Come on, let's get you home."_

_I pour her into the back of the car and hand her a bucket—I've learned from experience that Saturday night drunks are rarely careful with cruiser upholstery, and this baby is new._

_She falls asleep within thirty seconds, anyway, the upturned bucket propping up her head._

_When I arrive at her house, her son Sam rushes outside wearing a ratty, old coat over his pajamas, his long, dark hair falling over his sleepy face. I hate that he has to see her like this. He's twelve for God's sake. Still, there's just the two of them; she's all he's got. _

_I've seen him three times this last month alone. The last time he let me hug him, and I made sure he'd got food in the fridge and that the heat was on. I suppose I shouldn't get so attached, but it's been months since I've seen my own kid. _

_I wake Allison, and support her into the house and to her bed, while Sam grabs her purse from the back seat. She barely wakes up the entire journey. As I turn to leave, Sam asks me if I'd like some coffee. I'm starting to flag—it's six hours into my shift, now,—and he looks like he could use some company, so we sit in his little kitchen and I encourage him to talk._

"_How's school?" _

_This is always a popular question with Sam—he's a real studious kid, and his eyes dance as he describes the frogs they got to dissect in biology last week. He loved cataloguing the organs, seeing how the frog worked from the inside, he says._

"_Well, maybe you should think about being a doctor," I reply. There's not enough people around here giving this kid aspirations, and if anyone could go far in life, it's Sam._

_His cheeks redden a little, and he looks down at the table._

"_I'd love that."  
><em>

"_Well, son, I have no doubt that you would be great. No doubt at all."_

_By the time I leave, he's smiled a couple of times, and the house is warm. I ruffle his hair as I go, telling him to call me if he ever needs anything. He nods and thanks me, but we both know it's not going to happen. As I walk away my chest constricts. I've thought about calling Child Protective Services so many times for him, but it's such a minefield. I've seen his mom sober, buying groceries, hanging laundry. She does love him, a lot, and he's not beaten or hurt by her physically. Would a foster home really be better? _

_I asked him once, if he'd like me to contact a social worker for him, and he blanched at the suggestion. I've promised myself that if I ever see a mark on him, or if something more serious happens to his mom, I'll call them in a heartbeat. _

_I drive away and glance at the thankfully unused bucket feeling a little sick myself._

Thirty hours later, my sanity has dissolved.

Billy is getting as frantic as I am; he keeps muttering something about "bastard bloodsuckers." I can feel the stares of the guys on the force; their pity has developed into an exhausted pain as we all let her disappearance creep into her _being gone_.

One person, a rookie in the search and rescue team, mentioned finding "the body" a few hours ago. Three cops and the helicopter pilot had to hold me back.

Sue Clearwater spent hours just talking to me, after that. Telling me that whatever happened, we would find Bella. That there would be no "body," there would be a breathing, warm girl and that she would be here again soon.

I collapsed into the seat of my cruiser once I'd calmed down, surrounded by fast food wrappers and half empty coffee cups and stared at the windshield, opaque with soft rain. I started talking to her.

"Bella, I love you, sweet girl. Just... you have to know that. Make sure you find some shelter and... whatever happened to make you go out there I'll work so hard to fix it, I will. I love you... I love you..."

This night, the second she's been out there, is the worst, though. I cry so hard I throw up behind an ambulance, where no one can see me. Images I've been blocking force themselves through my exhausted mind—Renee's face, twisted with hate and grief, Bella's funeral, gathering up her clothes...

Billy finds me slumped against the brightly painted rear doors, sobbing. He strokes my back and hugs me, leaning over as far as his chair will allow. I cling to him like a limpet to cliffs. When his mobile phone vibrates in his pocket he grabs it, pushing up suddenly.

After a brief pause he says one word: "Where?"

I tense. Something's happened, I can tell by his tone and his stance. He turns to me, a smile breaking across his face, as he says: "The Sitkum-Solduc road, where it crosses the river, just before it enters the forest. Sam's got her."

_Tonight, for the first time, there's real anger on Sam's face. He's pissed off. I mean, he has every right to be, but tonight for the first time I've seen the kid in him totally gone. He's fifteen, and mad as hell._

"_Where was she? Where WAS she?"_

_I wince a little at his tone._

"_Tillicum Park. By the bandstand."_

_He nods and shrugs her onto his arm, her head lolling on his shoulder. When did he get so strong? He's shooting up like a weed, too, like Harry did when we were kids. Billy was tall too, I guess I just don't think of it what with him being in his chair. _

_I grab her belongings and walk inside, watching as he pushes her over to the sofa. I frown. Normally he takes her to her bed. He explains as I set her purse down on the coffee table, an ashtray its only decoration. _

"_The company turned off the gas a week ago. This is the only room I can heat."_

_A small wood burning stove sits against the far wall, next to piles of fragrant, drying pine wood. My fists clench. _

"_Which company?"_

"_Avista."_

_Despite his rage, and his desperate situation, he tucks a few blankets around his mom. _

_His tenderness is difficult to watch, so I glance around the little room he's been forced to hole up in. He's got his school timetable pinned up next to the door, and some homework lying on the sideboard by the toaster. _

_I wander over. It's a math quiz; he got an A minus. The teacher had written "Well done, Sam—keep up the good work!" in the margin. I shake my head, remembering what he told me a month ago:_

"_I'm not going to live like this forever, Charlie. As soon as I have a choice."_

_He leaves Allison and goes to turn on the coffee maker. Our late night brews have become standard, now. I know he sits up and watches her while she sleeps. He confessed a year ago that he's always terrified she'll throw up and choke, so he drinks cup after cup of coffee and reads, or does schoolwork, or listens to old baseball games on his little radio. He's been doing it for years._

_The hiss and splash of hot coffee on glass brings me out of my thoughts. Sam is collecting sugar and mugs, measuring out our differing tastes. He's known how I take my coffee for a long time now. _

_We swap idle small talk for a while—how things are on the rez, how his studying is going, how his friends are. He confesses his crush on Leah Clearwater, but frowns as he describes her antics. She sounds like a firecracker, and I tell him to be careful with his heart. He just smiles, and tells me he's going to be persistent. The fire stoked in him by his mom's disappearance is muted now she's safe. He's a gentle soul, really. He's just had a tough hand to play._

_I broach the topic of rehab for his mom. It's something we've discussed more and more lately, now that he's old enough. He still can't be left on his own, though, so rehab for her would mean foster care for him, and he wants more than anything to stay at home. We've tried getting Allison to AA a few times over the years. The problem is, when you stay in the town you're from, the same people and the same places can draw you back in so easily. Sam's convinced, and I agree, that his mom needs to go elsewhere for a while to really give herself a chance of getting sober. Maybe in a few more years._

_As I go to leave, I tell him his mom will have to come down to the station tomorrow. She's going to be given community service again by the judge, I assure him. She won't go to jail. And she'll be ordered to attend therapy again. He nods._

"_Will you be there?" he asks as I leave, huge brown eyes imploring.  
><em>

"_Yes, of course. I'll be there with you the whole time. I'll come get you on the day, I promise. You take care, son."_

_He looks relieved, and throws his arms around me. I hug him back, ruffling his hair, then depart for the station to call that damn gas company and yell at them till I feel better._

I can hardly speak; my throat is still choked with mucus and underused from hours of silent waiting, swallowing, waiting.

I bolt up, running around to the paramedics drinking tea and eating cookies at our makeshift refreshments stand set up by Sue.

"They've got her!" I yell, shouting directions and waving my arms before diving into my cruiser and peeling away.

I've never driven this fast in my life. My knuckles are white against the leather of the wheel as I throw the car around bends on my way out to the forest's edge. My stomach's hovering somewhere around my throat as I narrowly avoid ploughing the car into a ditch cut to separate the roadway from the forest. It looks so black, swallowing the headlights as they glare. My jaw begins to ache but I just can't relax... I can't... and then suddenly there's people in the road—Sam, crouched down over the impossibly little body of my Bella.

I don't remember leaving the car, or putting it in park, just an overwhelming sense of manic relief as I feel the heat from Bella's body and see her breathing as I cradle her head. Then I see the blood.

"Bells_—_baby_—_oh God_—_Sam, where is she hurt?"

"There's not too much wrong with her besides those gashes on her face and the cuts on her palms and feet."

Gratitude floods through me.

"She hasn't eaten since she left, I think, and I didn't have any food with me unfortunately. She had water though."

"You didn't carry food with you? And where are your shoes?"

I'm confused. I thought Sam was helping Search and Rescue? But he's... barefoot...

Just then, Bella twists a little in my arms and I catch sight of the awful, jagged cuts running the length of her cheek. All thoughts of Sam's situation leave me.

"What the hell happened with her face?" I stroke Bella's hair. "Bells, talk to me. What happened?"

Sam answers. Thank God he's here, being his usual level-headed self.

"Some sort of wild animal attacked her. It happened before I got to her and she didn't get a good look at it. I think they're infected."

I feel her forehead; she's sweating with the heat radiating from her skin. And she still hasn't said a word to me. Relief at finding her is now slowly ebbing as panic over her condition creeps up my spine. I desperately need to hear her voice.

"She's burning up. Bella? Talk to me. Bells."

Finally, she opens her dry, cracked lips and says, "S'okay, Dad. 'M fine."

I ignore the tears running down my face and almost laugh at her clearly inaccurate statement with something verging on joy. The policeman in me takes over, though. I need to know why my baby girl has been in those woods. This isn't like Bella; something must have caused it.

"You're not fine. Tell me what happened. Why did you end up here?"

"Chief, we need you to stand aside so we can do our jobs."

The paramedics came up to us without me even noticing. It takes a lot of effort to pull away from her and let them forward, but Sam's hand on my arm helps me see reason. I turn to him, and let him pull me into a hug. It feels odd, him being the one comforting me.

"Sam, I can't thank you eno_—_"

"Charlie, stop." he interrupts, as the paramedics keep working on my girl. "As if I could leave your Bella out there."

His eyes are sad, but open. He's always taken responsibility so easily, as if his shoulders were made for burdens. As soon as Bella's loaded into the ambulance, I shake Sam's hand quickly, then jump up through the doors.

Bella seems to come round again once we started moving, and asks me about my cruiser, of all things.

"It's fine," I soothe, "Dean's going to take it back to the house after he drops Sam Uley off at the rez."

I watch with worry as an EMT takes three tries to find a vein due to Bella's dehydration, then begins cleaning off her cuts. I can't decide if they look worse or better now they aren't covered with blood and dirt. He tries to get her to drink some water, but she can't even hold the bottle. I take it from her—I can't bear to watch her fumble—and help her swallow a few mouthfuls. My heart hurts in my chest and I ask again what on earth led to my careful, conscientious, sweet girl being in such a state.

"How in God's name did you get so deep in the woods, honey?"

"I got lost."

I can see the tears blurring her eyes. How had—wait...

"Did Edward just _leave _you there?"

She dodges the question.

"How did you know where I went? How did they know where to look for me?"

I'm confused. "Your note, honey."

She shakes her head. "I didn't leave a note."

"You must've forgotten. I've got it right here." I pull out the crumpled page I've read and re-read, before explaining.

_Going for a walk with Edward, up the path. Back soon, B._

"When you didn't come back before dark, I called the Cullens' house, but nobody answered the landline, and I didn't have their cells, so I tried the hospital. That was when Dr. Gerandy told me the Cullens were gone."

She winces, as if physically hurt by the name. Just the _name_.

"Did he say where they went?"

Now I'm even more confused. "He didn't _tell _you?"

"No."

"Carlisle took a position at a big teaching hospital in Los Angeles. I guess they made him an offer he couldn't refuse. I want to know, Bella. _Did _Edward just walk away from you in the middle of those woods without making sure you made it home safe?"

She starts turning red, then purple, her breath coming in pants with each mention of the Cullens. I want to vow vengeance on them in some sort of ridiculous revenge movie style, but Bella's suffering pulls me out of my thoughts. She starts shaking.

"Can't… breathe… help me..."

I put my hand on her shoulder and gently help her lie down, holding the oxygen mask over her face so she can breathe. The paramedic starts to explain that he thinks she's had a panic attack, but it's just... so not Bella. Not that anything that's happened in the past few days is like her.

He sedates her as I protest her calm, serious nature.

When we arrive at the hospital, she's still unconscious, and is wheeled into a room for treatment. I get pushed out into the damn waiting room, and pace a hole in the carpet till they let me see her.

Once she's in my view again, I feel some tension leave me and I'm glad of the chance to just sit and watch her stomach move up and down, up and down, as she breathes. I can't quite make myself certain that this is reality, and that I'm not going to wake up in my cruiser, with an imprint of the steering wheel on my cheek.

Regardless, I stand up and pull Bella's covers a little higher, tucking them securely around her feet like I used to do when she was tiny. Eventually, the senior doctor comes back and asks to speak to me.

"She'll be okay, right?"

"The best thing now is to get her home, in familiar surroundings. Try to keep an eye on her, Chief. She seemed very distraught when she was talking in her sleep; she kept begging the Cullen boy not to leave her."

I nod, fists clenched. Home is where she'll be for as long as I can possibly keep her. Ideally, within hearing range at all times.

Luckily, she has the same idea.

"Ch-Dad? I want to go home. Can I go home please?"

"Dr. Gerandy says there's no real reason to keep you here, Bells. The nurse is working on the discharge stuff right now."

I help her out to the car a few minutes later, after wrapping her in as many blankets as she'd allow. As we drive home I try so hard to think of things to say, but she obviously doesn't want to talk. Anything not related to the past few days seems frivolous, and anything about it, too painful, so we sit in silence.

She wants to go to bed as soon as we get home, and acquiesces, begrudgingly, to my help getting up the stairs. I almost smile at her stubbornness, knowing she got that particular trait from me, but my brief amusement is short-lived.

Moments after the door to her room shuts, I hear her cry.

It's almost eerie; like an animalistic baying; a wolf's sob. I find her curled on the floor and drag her body on to my lap. She cries and cries and doesn't stop.

I have no idea how to comfort her or help, so do the only thing I can. I just hold her, and rock her and pray that somehow, in some way, this will pass. And although I feel a little bad for thinking so in the middle of such awful heartbreak, I'm so, so happy. Because _I got her back_.


	20. Paul, Outtake 2: Struggling Hard

**A/N: Hi there! I'm rearranging the order of the story, so please forgive the alert for an outtake you've probably already read. By the way, thank you SO MUCH to all of you who voted for Holding Sam and Return to Sender in the JBNP Awards. I squee'd all day.**

**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**# # #**

_**Struggling Hard**_

_**(Paul's POV of Chapter 4: Meeting Again)**_

_**by FatedFeathers**_

_And we're searching for directions / Struggling hard to breathe / I hate you and you hate me__ / "You and I" by tAKiDA_

**-*Love_/\_H/&\S_/\_Hate*-**

Yes, Sam. _No, Sam._ Of course, Sam. _Abso-fucking-lutely not, Sam._ Whatever you say, Sam. _Go fuck yourself, Sam._ Uh-huh. _No fucking way._ Yep. Gotcha. _Go to hell._

Eh. Why did I even bother? Stupid-ass werewolf pack hierarchy. It was all such bullshit. Just because Sam had a hard-on for The Girl With The Bony Ass, I had to follow her around and lose out on whatever non-existent spare time I had (ha, what a joke that was) to make sure The Redheaded Bitch With A Grudge didn't suck The Girl With The Bony Ass dry. Like there was anything left to suck out.

Still, orders were orders in the world of fabled werewolves and I was the man—yes, I looked like a man but I wasn't, hello? I'm supposedly still in high school, asswipe—for the job. So I did as I was told and took my pwned ass to Forks. Just like every other stinking time we played Sam Says and the Rest Obey.

Apparently The Girl With The Bony Ass was heading off to some party, and while I had no idea where this joint was, luckily, she got a ride off of The Pretty Boy Next Door (withaconstanthardon), so I just followed them. Stupid fuckwits had no idea they had The Redheaded Bitch With A Grudge after them (probably The Pretty Boy Next Door had said constant hard-on because he was too fucking _blind_ to find it and get rid of it). I even made some obvious appearances (I get bored, okay?), but they still didn't see me—I jumped out of the bushes and sauntered through the door right in front of their noses. Still nothing.

Fucking hell. Ruin all my fun.

It wasn't till I got through the door that I realized exactly whose house it was, but by then it was too late. _Woo, fuckers._ Taking a look around, I knew I wouldn't find much entertainment here either. Until I caught a familiar-looking blond staring at me like she wanted to rip my clothes off. _No way, bitch._ _Shit. Fucking shit and fuck._ She'd cut her hair shorter. Again. Too much makeup. As usual. But fuck.

Before I could dive into the closest bedroom to check for the house porn (that would provide _some_ entertainment, at least), she came up to me and was prattling off about fuck-knows-what. Every once in a while, a confused light would flicker at the back of her eyes, but then again she'd never bothered to see what the fuck was under the skin so why would she recognize me in my new face? I kept speaking automatically, hoping she'd go the fuck away.

"Uh-huh." _Fuck off_. "Yeah, sounds great." _Holy shit, you're all kinds of stupid._ "Oh yeah? Tell me about it." _On second thought, don't, 'cause I'm about to throw up in your cleavage that you keep shoving at me. Bitch, I'm too high up to sink that low. Ha ha ha. "_Sure. It's a date." _Too bad I'm not showing up._

Nope. Hear no evil, see no evil. I knew nothing. All I could do was weave through the crowd and find The Suicidal Emo With A Bony Ass while The Suicidal Emo Whose Name Shall Not Be Mentioned obviously didn't get the hint. Funny that. Used to be me doing the running after, the chasing, the talking without getting a response. _How's it feel now? Like it like that?_

Shit. This was exhausting. I needed food.

The downside of being constantly hungry was that I'd shovel down enough shit that'd give any normal person's ass its own zip code, which made me feel gross. On the plus side, I could eat tons of my favorite foods without having to lift my weights. Come to think of it; I hadn't used them since all this supernatural bullshit started. About a year ago. A year since—

Holy hell, The Girl With The Bony Ass was going to rid The Pretty Boy Next Door of his constanthardon at the rate she was sucking those Breezers down. Seriously. Moron. Fuck, I hated babysitting. Ignoring the churning in my stomach, I left the blond and went up to the girl quickly becoming The Girl _On_ Her Bony Ass. She knew I was here; I'd caught her looking my way, like _she_ had a problem with me being here. What the fuck?

She gave me a cocky look. If I smacked girls I'd smack her. "Yeah? What?" She shoved something into her mouth the way stressed-out fat people do. Chewed. It was pissing me off.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Don't you know you've got that redheaded bitch after you still?"

If looks could kill. "Yeah, probably I should stay locked in my home. My super-safe bedroom window latch should keep her out, because everybody knows vampires have to be invited into your house. Oh, wait."

Something made the pissy light in her eye waver, but it was gone in a beat. Huh. "So you decided instead to come out and put a target sign on your back? Smart."

"Saves everyone some trouble." Oh, fuck me dead (all I needed). The Suicidal Emo With A Bony Ass (see what I did there?) started to turn. Fuck that shit.

I grabbed her arm (too hard probably, oh well), hoping to put some fear in her since obviously she didn't give a shit (shut up). "I'm only here because Sam says we have to keep an eye on your leech-loving ass since you're the best bait we've got for the vampire. I followed you and Pretty Boy Next Door over here and beat you to the house and you never even noticed. So try to stay alive long enough for us to burn her, all right? After that, I don't care how you kill yourself."

She yanked her arm back and snapped, "Fuck you." Almost instantly she busted out in a hysterical cackle, and just as quickly she covered it up with one hand. _You've got to be fucking shitting me._ Insane bitch. I needed to get the fuck away before I tore into her.

I tried to smile, but that was a real challenge given the current situation. "You wish," I told her and left her staring after me with her mouth hanging open as I left.

No way was I going to deal with a(nother) suicidal girl. Not a fucking chance. Sam could deal with this himself. It wasn't up to me to do that. Besides, what was the point in busting my balls to keep someone alive who didn't seem to care whether she lived or died anyway?

Yeah. I recognized it all too well (shut the fuck up). Fucking hell.

I made it out of the house and far enough away to shed my clothes and phase without anyone seeing me. I had to start singing the fucking songs the instant I phased just to keep my temper down enough to be able to phase back.

_Get here right now and sort this shit out, I'm done._ _(For he's a jolly good fellow, yes, he's a jolly good fellow—)_

_Stay where you are, Paul. Why are you even out here? Get back inside._

_Fucking seriously? She's in more danger from me than that bitch from Grudgy Hell. _

_Jeez, Paul. Stop being such an ass. The redhead's nearby._

_Fuck you. (—oh, yes, he's a jolly good fe-e-llo-o-o-w—)_

_Love ya, man. You know that, right?_

_I'm touched. (—and nobody can deny-y-y-y.) Fuck this. Sam, you better be here soon or you'll be bringing her back to her dad in pieces. (aa-bee-see-dee-ee-eff-gee-born to be wi-i-i-ild—) _Finally I managed to phase back. I flailed. Seriously fucking flailed. "Fucking fuck shit piece of shit ass—ugh." I couldn't believe this. Why did I have to do this? How did the treaty and our purpose cover Suicidal Emos With A Sparkly Crush?

I yanked my clothes back on and brushed at the pine needles and dirt while stalking across the backyard to The Horny Prom Queen's house. Fucking paleface idiotic teenaged hormonal asshole twats. _Not all—_(fuck the fuck off and shut up).

Outside the door, I stopped. Going back in there meant not only having to listen to all their meaningless babble and stupid giggling, but I had to watch them—fucking _all_ of them. And smell them. I hated these headache inducing, sharp senses. How was it needed? It wasn't like you could _not_ spot these sparkly leeches coming a mile away, like fucking fairy-ticks, just a lot bigger and uglier and dead and—

"_Paul?_" The shock in the voice was palpable. I stood stock-still. No fucking way. This was just not happening. She couldn't have recognized me _now. _"It _is_ you. I swear, I thought it was, but then I didn't and I—_God_, you... What _happened_ to you?" Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

I wasn't thinking anything, my mind was blank, I had absolutely no idea how I was supposed to move from the spot without accidentally losing it. _Keep it blank. No thoughts. Nothing. Born to be wi-i-i-ild—_I jerked back when something cold touched my hand on the doorknob. Cold. Fucking cold. Wasn't supposed to be cold, for fuck's sake. _Don't look don't look _so of course I fucking looked and there they were, the paler white crosshatch marks on the pale white wrist. I was going to lose it so fucking bad.

"Get away from me," I snapped and all but wrenched the door off its hinges. Hallelujah. Suddenly the House of Hormonal Horrors was my _refuge._ How much more fucked up could this situation be?

"Paul!"

Fuck. Where _was_ she? Had The Redheaded Bitch With A Grudge gotten inside and snatched her while I was gone? I groaned, and suddenly my stalker _shoved_ me. Oh, fuck no. I had to turn now. "_What?_"

"You gonna talk to me now or are you gonna ignore me some more?" She crossed her arms and glared at me.

I barked out a laugh. Shit. "Now you know how it feels, don't you?" I wasn't supposed to throw that in her face. That wasn't the reason I had stopped talking to her... But I couldn't tell her the real reason, either. Nobody was supposed to know. _Stick to the rules. Keep the secret. Don't tell anyone. _I wanted to fucking flail again. "I'm busy, and so were you, remember?"

She winced. "I've changed."

"I don't give a shit. Like I said: I'm busy."

"_You've _changed, Paul. What happened to you?"

"I'm done talking," I told her flatly and moved around her, ignoring whatever else she had to say. No fucking shit, I'd changed. Observant. And fuck. If I didn't figure out where Bony Pain In The Ass Bitch was soon, Sam would rip me a new one. Or Alpha Order me to do it myself, because the guy had a steel rod up his ass.

But then I found her. Sort of. I heard, was maybe the more accurate term. "Fucking great." I was not busting into the room to find The Pretty Boy Next Door with his pants around his ankles and relieving his constanthardon.

"No way—"

I pulled Suicidal Emo Chick Number Two back before she could throw the door open. "Don't," I warned. She pulled back, and tried to get eye contact, but I wasn't having that.

"This is _my _house, and that's my _mom's_ craft room, and if that's Bella Swan in there I'm gonna lose my shit."

"Like there's much left to lose," I muttered to myself. Oh, what a fucking shame; she caught that. "Run along, Prom Queen, and go find a guy to fuck like you always did."

I couldn't help looking at her now. She'd frozen to the spot and stared up at me with an incredulous look on her face. Hurt and anger flashed in her pale blue eyes simultaneously. Fucking great. _Here come the waterworks_. "I can't believe what an _asshole_ you are," she whispered, and continued, voice cracking further and I just wanted to get the fuck out of there— "You used to be sweet, Paul. And _gentle_ and no matter _how_ much of a bitch I was, you never—not even _once_, did you... What. The. _Fuck_ happened to you?"

I folded my arms and assumed a leaning position, staring at the door. "Life's a bitch and then she fucks you—oh wait, we never did fuck, did we? How'd it go again? You didn't want to lead me on?" I laughed at that. Fuck, this was so surreal. "Maybe I shouldn't've been such a pussy and just fucked you anyway? I knew you wanted it, just like you wanted it from every other guy—" I looked down at her shocked features. Her mouth was hanging open. _Thanks for reminding me. _"—just like you wanted it twenty minutes ago? All the lines you just tried on me, is that what you told _them_? The guys who just wanted to get between your legs and couldn't give a shit about anything you had from the waist up? Besides your tits, anyway."

"Paul... Don't."

She backed into the wall and I stepped in, hovering close but nowhere near close enough. My smile felt wrong and stiff. "I'm not good enough all of a sudden? I was a moment ago when you tried to shove your boobs in my face. This should rid you of all the guilt. I mean, when I'm fucked up and everything, just like you?" I wasn't thinking about all the things I'd once wanted. That was gone. _I'm blank. _I was cold and too hot at the same time. What the fuck was I doing? "What do you say?" I braced one palm flat against the wall near her head and bent down until I was level with her eyes. "C'mon, Lauren... You're not leading me on. It's just a fuck, right? For old time's sake?"

She shoved me. "I loved you!" A sob and another shove. "I didn't want you to be just a fuck!" And another. "The meds screwed with my head and I wanted to wait until I knew for sure I was _me_!" Instead of hitting me again, she grabbed my face. I felt numb. I was completely impassive now, just like Sam when he cared too much, just like Sam when he looked at Suicidal Emo With The Bony Ass. _Not here._ "But you _knew_ all that and you said you understood and you did and you were _always_ nice to me, but now you're throwing it all in my face, so I'll ask you, one more time. What _happened_ to you?" More tears. More sobbing. More more more and fucking more. "You just... stopped calling, stopped coming around—did you know I've been up to the rez every damn weekend since the last time I saw you? Nobody would tell me any-fucking-thing and I… and I…"

I tried to answer, but I couldn't and all of a sudden her arms were around my neck and her mouth was on mine and I was tasting salt and cheap beer and finally there was a good side to the werewolf senses shit because she was _so fucking soft _and under the makeup and the perfume and deodorant stenches there was _Laurensmell_ and it smelled so good so right so perfect. I was dying. I was going to fucking die right here in the House of Hormonal Horrors but it didn't matter because at least I'd go out with her lips pressed into mine and her tongue sweeping across mine and her whole body clinging and fuck fuck _fuck _my hands were all over her just like I'd wanted them to be for all those months. She felt amazing, the bones that used to jut out cushioned with curves and skin that used to be dry and flaky from not eating enough turned into silk and I needed her just as bad as I always did. Just as fucking bad.

She jerked back, staring at me wide-eyed, and then kissed me again, this time slow and tender. Did I say I was dying before? Guess this would finish the job. It made my chest hurt like a bitch—everything I ever wanted, all right here, and I was going to have to walk away again—

A commotion and protesting voices reached my ears just as Sam came down the hallway. "Where is she?" he demanded with his usual authority. His eyes darted to Lauren but he decided to ignore what he saw. Of course. Girl With The Bony Ass was _so _fucking much more important than anything else.

I took a step back and straightened, jerking my chin at the door. In a beat he had it shoved open. If I hadn't just been completely mindfucked, I might have laughed at their shocked faces. Pretty Boy Next Door looked like he was going to shit his pants.

While listening in on their fucked up conversation and trying to ignore Lauren, I spotted a bottle on the floor, went to pick it up and glanced at Lauren in question.

"It's not mine," she told me dully.

Well, there was a fucking surprise and a half. Guess it belonged to Emoella Swan, so I walked into the room to get Our Most Excellent Alpha's attention. "Sam." I gave him the bottle.

Holding it up, he read the label. "How many did you take, Bella?"

"Two," she answered like the emo infant she was.

Sam shook his head and I took it back off of him when he handed it to me, telling me, "Toss the bottle. Bury it deep enough that no one will see it." With a nod, I left the room, hearing his lecture behind me. _"That stuff can make you suicidal, Bella. It's not recommended for teenagers." _No fucking kidding. And then I heard her hysterical cackling again, telling them she was ready to die. Fuck this.

Lauren followed me on my way out. "Paul, wait."

"Give it a rest, all right? You said it yourself; I've changed, you've changed—this is so fucking pointless." I stopped when she stepped after me through the front door. "Fucking hell, Lauren, just _stop._"

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "Sorry I was so screwed—"

"Was?" I laughed with cold, bitter humor. "You pulled your pickup lines on me tonight, I know, I was fucking there, so don't tell me you _were_ screwed up."

"I... I... You don't have to believe me, but I was just..."

"Just what? Testing me? If you wanted to show you were all better, you could've pulled me aside to tell me. If you weren't sure it was me, you could've fucking used your I've Changed I'm All Better Brain and formulated _one_ sentence to ask me. But no, instead you made me wanna fucking hurl down your top. I can't stand looking at you right now, so go inside and play with your friends or fuckbuddies or whatever the fuck. I don't care."

"Don't, Paul—"

"Holy shit, you're dense. Fuck _off._ Is that clear enough?" Stupid bitch (shut up). I'd be damned if it didn't cut like a goddamn knife when she looked at me with that heartbroken face. Fucking hell. I was so over this bullshit.

Luckily, she got the hint (_finally_), and went back inside without so much as a word. Maybe that was because she was crying too fucking much, but why should I care? I didn't (shut the fuck up). Just in time, too, because two beats later, Sam and Bony Emo Bitch With A Deathwish came outside—she nearly fell, but fucked if Sam wasn't fast enough. That would have been too good if she'd fallen on her ass.

Obediently, like the dog I was, I followed Sam (carrying Emoella like a fucking baby), until given further instructions. "Phase and let Jared know we're on our way back. Go on ahead. If there's any trouble I'll know."

Thank fuck for that. _I'm outta here._ But before I phased, I did as Sam had asked, dug a little hole and tipped the pills into it. I popped the plastic bottle into my mouth, tied my clothes up and phased. Not that the plastic would do anywhere near as much damage as The Sparkly Tick-Fairies.

Fucking hell. I was still hungry. I hated this werewolf bullshit. And vampires. And L—_(Booooorn to be wi-i-i-ild.)_

_the end_

**-*Love_/\_H/&\S_/\_Hate*-**


	21. Bella, Outtake 3: Breaking Free

**A/N: First things first: this outtake owes just about everything to monroeslittle's "The Two Hundred and Seven Days After." http : / /monroeslittle(.)livejournal(.)com(/)11193(.)html Thanks to cretin for looking this over for me. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. And, happy birthday to British lovelies grrlinterrupted and HoochieMomma, for whom I wrote this.**

**# # #**

I was almost done decorating. Giving the tiny Christmas tree one final adjustment on its endtable, I stood back to appreciate the full effect. It wasn't a ton - the house was still Sam's, after all - but it was so much better than last year's dusty barrenness. _Everything _was better than last year.

The door opened, and I turned to behold Sam standing with grocery bags in hand, brow furrowed as if he were in deep thought. Even though he got fully dressed a lot more often these days, it was still a little bit of a shock to see him with a shirt and shoes on.

"Hey," I greeted him, walking to take a couple of bags from his grip, although he didn't really need any help. "What do you think?"

With an obvious effort, he focused on me, and then looked over my shoulder at the living room. "You did a great job. This place looks better than it ever has."

It was a sincere compliment, I could tell, but he still seemed distracted. "What's up?" I walked to the kitchen and started putting things away. When he didn't answer, I glanced at him over my shoulder and caught him gazing at me with a bemused expression. "Sam?"

"I just..." He shook his head, and crossed the room to take me into his arms. I raised my face to question him again, but he cut me off by kissing me.

_Oh. _Sighing with contentment, I slid my arms around his neck and closed my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his mouth moving across my own. He lifted me up to his level, effortless as ever. I opened my mouth wider, and he made a happy noise in the back of his throat as he followed my silent invitation to go deeper. I held him tighter.

He started to walk toward his bedroom, and I pulled away to say, "The frozen stuff - "

"I didn't get anything frozen," he interrupted, stemming off any further argument I might have made with his mouth again. I didn't really care about the groceries anymore by the time he got me onto the bed, because _I _was melting beneath him. Sitting up just long enough to take off his shirt, he lowered himself beside me and pressed his lips to my neck in a gentle line of kisses down to my collarbone. His tentativeness had long since faded away, unless he'd had a bad round of nightmares recently, but this wasn't spurred by fear, I could tell. Lifting up my head, I allowed him to pull my shirt away, followed quickly by my bra.

Sam was never a big talker, in or out of bed, but he let his body speak for him. The delicate brushes of his hands, lips and tongue to my breasts, traveling the circumference of first one, then the other, over and over, told me exactly what I wanted to know. He lingered there, keeping his touch so light, even when he took my nipple into his mouth, that I started to shake after a few minutes. It was the best kind of torture.

"Sam, please," I panted, digging my fingers into his hair to try to pull him more firmly against me. It didn't work, of course - my strength was too paltry compared to his. He only kissed his way down my ribcage and across my stomach to my bellybutton, then down where I wanted him. His breath heated my sensitive skin even through the denim and cotton. My body's tremors got worse. If he kept this up, I was going to lose it embarrassingly fast. "Please?"

In response, he unbuttoned my jeans and drew them down with my panties. Before I could beg again, his mouth returned between my legs and my awareness dwindled to the wet heat surrounding the ache, soothing it with the caress of his tongue even as he made it worse. Whispering, "holy _shit,_" I buried my fingers in his hair, turning my face into the pillow beside my head to muffle the cries I just couldn't help - around here, you never knew if there were werewolves listening. He lapped and nibbled and sucked like he couldn't get enough, and even after I came he kept going, moving down to plunge his tongue inside me.

I was going to die. They'd have to put "death by oral" on the certificate.

Finally, I begged, "I need you, Sam, please don't tease anymore," and he gave in. After he wiped off his face, he rose to kiss my mouth again. When I embraced his shoulders, I discovered to my surprise that he was shaking too, and a sharp bolt of concern shot through me. Glancing up at his face, though, all I saw was love and lust. I smiled and reached to unbutton his shorts. He watched, heavy-lidded, as I freed his erection, and then shuddered while I stroked, dropping his forehead to press against my neck. I was too turned on to tease him the way I might have normally. Guiding him to my opening, I tilted my hips, relishing his hum of appreciation as he slid into me. I moaned - the feeling of him stretching and filling me would never, ever get old. He drew one of my legs up, then the other, so that my knees pressed to his chest.

"I love you," he told me, reaching down to smooth my hair away from my face.

My heart jolted to an even faster pace at the tenderness in his voice. "I love you - too - oh _God_ - " as he started to thrust, "you feel - so good, Sam..." I trailed off because it felt _too _good to allow me to do anything except whimper pathetically.

"Bella," he said, and my eyes, which had fluttered shut, opened again at the commanding tone. "Look at me, sweetheart." Obediently, I met his gaze. "I love you so much, Bella."

I would have answered, but the only sound I could make was a sharp cry as another orgasm jolted through me. He groaned when I clenched around him, pulling him even deeper, his face twisting with pleasure as he came too. When he would have rolled away, I followed, straddling him so I could rest my head on his chest.

Listening to his heart's pounding slow down, I murmured, "Not that I'm complaining, but what's going on?"

He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. "I saw Emily at the store."

Ice pierced my spine. "_What?_" Rationally, I knew it was a possibility every time he left the house, but I chose not to remember that on most occasions. It was the only way I could stay sane. Sitting up so I could see his face, I searched his features for a clue about what had just happened. He _couldn't_ have just pretended I was Emily... No. He'd looked me in the eyes and called me "Bella." But that in and of itself was a shock. Last time he'd seen her - a year ago - it had sent him off balance for hours. Yet here he was, fully present and happy to be with me. "You look... way better than I would've thought," I ventured. Fear tightened around my throat.

"She's pregnant," he said, as if it explained everything. My confusion must have showed, because he elaborated, "Do you remember what I said about the imprint, that it's all about genetics?" I nodded. "When I saw her today, I could _see _her, Bella."

"Oh my God." This was the first time he'd ever seen the results of his loss of control in person. Reaching up to press my hand to his face, I asked, "Are you okay?"

His face went blank for an instant, and I caught a flash of desolation in the back of his eyes, but then he nodded. "Yeah. Mostly because of what that means. I think... I think that her being pregnant with someone else's baby has broken the imprint completely. The wolf didn't want to go after her. It didn't want her at all."

I tried to answer, but instead I burst into tears.

"Hey, hey," he said, alarm in his voice. Pulling me into a tight embrace, he rolled so that I lay beneath him and kissed my face as I sobbed.

"I'm sorry," I gasped out, trying to stop and failing. "I'm sorry. This is so stupid; it's the best news ever and I'm bawling like a moron."

"It's not stupid," he comforted me. "You never say anything, but I know you've been scared. It's got to be rough, knowing your boyfriend could lose his mind if he sees the wrong person. Hell, it scared _me._"

Finally, I got myself under control and drew in an unsteady breath. "It really _is _the best news ever, Sam. I don't think I knew how much the imprint stuff freaked me out."

"I'm so damn relieved," he confessed with half a smile. "I never wanted to hurt you like that again. It's been pretty much my biggest worry."

For a moment, I just looked at him. He was under so much pressure, all the time, even without vampires in the picture, and whether or not the imprint would hurt me had been his biggest worry. I couldn't find the right words to tell him how much that meant to me, or how much I loved him, so instead I hugged him as hard as I could and said, "I think we should celebrate."

"Didn't we just do that?"

I gave him a look, but couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. "Yeah, but I was thinking more foodwise. Let me make you dinner?"

"In a minute." Nuzzling the crook of my neck, he added, "Let me enjoy not having that hanging over our heads anymore for a little bit."

I shifted, and felt him growing hard against my thigh again. Amused, I asked, "Just for a little bit?"

"Maybe twenty minutes."

"I can spare that much time."


	22. Bella, Outtake 4: Holding Hands

**A/N from Joker: HoochieMomma, beta queen and lover of all things slash, wrote this for me on my request when I told her what Bella and Jess got up to during Bella's week of being grounded. That's right, this was all my idea, so BE NICE. *stares suspiciously around room* Not that I think people who read my story would be mean to my future wife.**

**Just to be clear, this is FEMMESLASH. Girls Kissing Girls (on various body parts and in various positions). If you don't like it then go hunt up one of the bajillion het or boysecks Twifics out there. Hoochie's got those too and you should check out her stuff: fanfiction dot net /u/2547649**

**A/N from Hoochie: ****With all my love and thanks to grrlinterrupted, theswandive and MeraNaamJoker for their beta-dust.**

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><p><strong><em>"My father warned me about men and booze but he never said anything about women and cocaine."<em>**

**_—Tallulah Bankhead_**

_Grounded_. It was laughable—after all, I was legally an adult—or at least it would have been, if my ability to laugh hadn't been ripped from my chest at the same time as my heart and lost along with it, somewhere out in the darkness of the woods. As it was, the days of my sentence with no Sam and no freedom exacted a steadily heavier toll, until it felt like I was screaming from behind soundproofed glass.

After another night of fitful sleep, Wednesday morning brought fresh conviction with its gray light: my only hope of ever filling this hole that had been blasted through my ribs would be to hear Edwa—to hear _his _voice again. Still, the chances of getting myself into a suitable amount of danger for that to happen in any of the three places I was legitimately allowed to be in this week started at zero, and progressed on a downward scale.

Having my cell confiscated had just been the final nail of indignity, pounded into the coffin. I showered and dressed dutifully, then went downstairs to find Charlie already gone. The few bites of cereal I managed to force down were promptly thrown back up in the kitchen sink. After staring at it blankly for full minute, I cleaned away the evidence robotically and brushed my teeth again, then parked at school and found with a thump of panic I couldn't even remember the drive. The day's classes passed in the same bleached-out daze.

At Newton's later on, I spent as much time in the stockroom as possible to avoid Mike's constant monologue. I figured I should conserve my energy, so I could make appropriate noises to customers if required. Near the end of my shift, though, I decided I'd better stop pretending to count camping stoves and show my face out in the store. Pushing the door open with my elbow while holding a high stack of boxes to seem like I'd been busy, I leaned forward to turn off the light with my chin.

"Need some help with those?" The female voice from the other side of the door made me jump. The cardboard tower in my arms lurched dangerously.

"Jess?" I watched stupidly as Jessica appeared around the door, holding it open and taking the two uppermost boxes. "Couldn't that essential purchase of a pair of sturdy walking shoes wait until after dinner?"

She rolled her eyes as we exited. "Ha ha. I've eaten, actually. Oh, hey Mike."

Mike had sidled over, interest lighting the powder-blue eyes. "Yo, J." He gave her the wink and the gun. "What's up?"

"It's not that I'm not happy to see you," I continued, ignoring Mike, "but–"

"Why am I here? Jess finished brightly. "Well, you looked even more miserable than yesterday at school this afternoon, if that's even possible, and we all feel totally guilty that you were the only one to get busted over the Port Angeles thing because it's just, like, so unfair, you know? So I was thinking how I could break you out, but you never answer your cell and I knew you'd be here and..." she paused fractionally for breath, "so I took coffee to the station for Chief Swan earlier and explained about our Bio test on Friday. He said you can come to my house for a few hours to _study_," Jess made theatrical air-quotes around the word, "as long as he can speak to my mom on the landline." She beamed expectantly. When I continued to stare back mutely as though she'd sprouted another head, she added, "This is the point where you thank me and I say, 'You're welcome.'"

Mike chuckled, his eyes ricocheting between our faces like he was watching a game of human pong.

_Huh. _In actual fact, now that I considered it, the prospect of not going home immediately _was _kind of appealing. "Sure," I agreed, summoning a small grin from my storeroom energy reserve, "thanks, Jess." I cast a sideways glance at Mike. "Maybe we can... try on some underwear, or something."

He swallowed thickly, adjusting himself in what he probably hoped was a discreet manner. _Go me._ I winked at Jess' smirk, then met his eyes with the closest approximation of a bright smile I could muster.

"Mike? It's quarter to eight. Can you cover for me with your mom if I take off a little early?"

His Adam's apple bobbed again. "Uh. Sure." Since the underwear comment, the blue eyes had stopped swivelling and now looked decidedly glazed.

"Great. Let's go," Jessica said quickly, immediately piling the two boxes she'd taken from me and then the ones I still carried into Mike's arms. He took them automatically, then stared down with a bemused expression, like he was wondering how they had got there. "Bye, Mike," Jess sang, slinging her arm over my shoulder. I put mine around her waist and winked again.

"Sure," Mike repeated. We left him standing there, clutching the boxes and staring after us like a shell-shock victim. Jess gave him a final glance and giggled as she led me away. To my surprise, her laughter was infectious.

At Jess' insistence, I retrieved my jacket from the cab of my truck and locked its door before abandoning it in the rainy dark of the parking lot to ride with her. I did pretty well responding to her good-natured chatter, but as we followed a set of glittering tail lights onto her street, I shut off temporarily and stared bleakly out at the night, one part of me wishing I was at La Push and another, baser part pondering what I could do to get _him_ to talk to me in this rare moment of unexpected, sort-of freedom. How much trouble could I get into over at the Stanleys'? Probably nowhere near enough for that. I swallowed, disappointment at the wasted opportunity bitter at the back of my throat.

The lights were off in the Stanleys' hallway. Only a bluish flickering glow from the TV showed through the open door to the living room. Jess yelled hi to her mom, kicking off her shoes and flinging her purse down at the front door after fishing out her cell. After a moment's hesitation, I followed suit. _Minus the cell. Jeez._

"Is that you, honey?" Mrs Stanley questioned superfluously from the sofa.

"Yep. Bella's here too," Jess called to her, already halfway up the stairs. "Can you give her a ride home later? And when her dad calls, can you tell him she's here?"

"Hi, Mrs Stanley," I added uncertainly over my shoulder.

A warm hand instantly circled my wrist and pulled me up the remaining steps. At the top, Jess dragged me me into her room, slamming the door definitively shut. "Okay. Let's get this party started," a disembodied voice giggled from the dark. "Time's of the essence," the voice said primly in a near-perfect impression of Mr Berty, "it's a school night, after all." She giggled again, clicking on her bedside lamp, suddenly revealed lying belly-down on her bed. I craned to watch her rummage briefly in the drawer of her nightstand, then my mouth dropped open when the search yielded a bottle.

"Do you want some vodka? I was saving this for Friday night, but Lexi says her mom's got that covered. Don't worry about your truck," she offered swiftly at the sight of my reluctant face, "Mom can totally drive you later, and I'll take you to get it after school tomorrow. This is the good stuff," she added, giving the vodka an encouraging shake. "You can hardly taste it if you mix it with soda."

I stared at the bottle dangling in her hands in the low light. It was a school night, and there was a chance that Charlie might smell it on my breath when I got home. I was in enough trouble already...

_Don't do this, Bella. It's not wise._

As the smooth voice filled every crevice in my head, my heart turned over in my empty chest. I blinked exactly once, and then looked at Jess with a sudden breathless smile.

"Sounds perfect."

She grinned, twisting the cap from the Coke on the nightstand with a hiss. "Alrighty then."

The Coke fizzed into the two glasses, mixing with the liberal amounts of liquor already poured. I took the vodka bottle from her bedside table, reading the name and alcohol content on the label before raising it to my lips and swigging experimentally. I gasped as the fire hit the back of my throat.

Jess turned at the sound, then set down the cola and gaped at me. "Wow, Bella. Loving your work. You're not joking around." Her tone held a fresh note of admiration.

Still elated from hearing the voice, I laughed like the air had been punched out of me, feeling a shiver as the flame reached my belly. I suddenly remembered I'd eaten nothing since my failed attempt at breakfast. This could get messy, quickly. I eyed the bedroom door. "What about your mom?"

Jess rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't worry about her. Seriously. Put some music on. Here."

She handed me a glass and motioned to her CD collection, spilling over the floor next to a vanity covered in a vomitus of cosmetic products. Renee would die with happiness to have a daughter like this, I realized dully.

"Sure." I drank half the contents of the proffered drink, then knelt down and started flipping through the CDs, resolutely avoiding any cover-art that reminded me of _him._ Holy shit, Jess was right. Mixed with Coke, the vodka was good. I took another slug, enjoying the warmth already spreading through me, and settled on a random album I vaguely remembered having heard once, at Angela's. It occurred to me with a small pang that I missed listening to music. I didn't think I could dare do it alone again. Not yet. These days, I preferred to get my kicks listening to the pretend voice of an absent vampire in my head. I quickly picked up my glass and drained it before pressing play.

We drank steadily, emptying and re-filling our glasses until the bottle was more than half-way empty. I felt a lot more comfortable in Jess' room this time, with only the two of us. Before long she had me genuinely laughing at her funny club moves and booty-shakes, combined with some more surprisingly accurate impressions of students and staff at Forks High. It occurred to me I was glad to be here.

"This is the best study night ever," Jess announced as if she'd read my mind, dropping low in a gyrating dance move uncannily like one of Lauren's. "Oh yeah, baby. That vodka's hitting the spot now, amiright? ...You know, it's a total bummer that you and that dude didn't get to really hook up last weekend." She flopped heavily on the bed, picking non-existent fluff from the comforter. "I figure half of your problem is you just need to make out with a hot guy. Make you feel good. Take your mind off... you know."

I looked intently at my toes, wiggling them against the carpet. "I would love someone to make me feel good, but I seem to keep scaring them off," I said quietly. After a moment, the silence became conspicuous enough to make me turn. Jess sat on the bed, perfectly still, staring at me. I pressed my lips together and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly feeling self-conscious, but seemingly powerless to stop staring back. A familiar prickle of heat flared in my cheeks.

"Hey," she said suddenly, "Next time we go out, I'm gonna give you really smoky eyes." She reached forward, pulling me down to her, raising her hands to my face and examining it closely. "Remind me to show you the magazine I saw it in at school; I left it in my locker. It will totally suit you."

Her breath tickled my cheek; her fingertips felt _great _on my skin. I noticed her hand carefully avoided the angry tracks Victoria had left, but she didn't mention them and I was grateful. It wasn't until I started to feel faint that I found I hadn't breathed in a while.

"Your eyes are really pretty," she said thoughtfully, still holding my face. "I always thought they were, like, really dark, but up close they've got these lighter flecks in them."

Another pause, where she didn't move her hands. The music continued, but it didn't seem enough to fill the gap that opened when her words dried up. I felt my cotton tank suddenly sticky against my back, prompting me to wonder if the temperature in the room had altered. I realized at that moment that I had absolutely no idea what was happening here. I _did_ know that I liked this feeling of being close. I liked being touched. I finally managed to exhale shakily. "Thanks."

"You know what, Bella? You're really hot." For the first time, I noticed the slight slur to her speech. She quirked an eyebrow and ran a thumb over my unmarked cheek. "Or, you know... you could be, if you'd just smile once in a goddamn while."

The dam of tension burst, relieved laughter flooding through us both. We collapsed onto the bed in identically breathless giggles. Suddenly I was lying on my back next to her, laughing, really laughing, until my stomach was convulsing and tears were running wet from my eyes, stinging the cut on my cheek. It felt good. It reminded me I was alive.

Slowly, the laughter subsided until we were both left staring at the shadowed ceiling, with nothing to fill the freshly-formed space but the too-fast song currently blaring from the stereo. I tried to focus on the small ring of golden light cast by her bedside lamp, but found I was hyper-aware of her lying beside me. We weren't touching at all. The song began to fade into a long, lyric-free outro.

Well, this was awkward.

"I could make you feel good," she suddenly said in a small voice, "If you want."

I blinked. My chest rose sharply. I stared at the golden light-pool on the ceiling and realized I wanted her to try. So, I waited. The bed creaked and I closed my eyes, a strange blend of hope and embarrassment washing through me as I felt her move. With a deep breath, I opened them. Jess was above me, staring down through the music and the alcoholic vapors. For a moment after our eyes met, we were both immobile. Then her mouth was on mine, an unbearable heaviness pushing my eyelids shut again and an equally unbearable need pushing my hands up to her hair. _Long and shiny, like my own._ I had vanishingly little experience of kissing anyone not undead and zero experience of kissing a _girl_. It felt... it felt kind of amazing, actually. Jess' lips were soft and warm. She smelled warm, too; a welcoming blend of mint and her familiar perfume. I heard a sigh and realized it came from me. I opened my lips and begin to kiss her back, allowing her to draw me into the present through her breaths and the feel of her chest rising and falling on mine.

The vodka began to outrun our movements, slowing them, weighting down my limbs like we were kissing underwater. She tasted of gum and the clean tang of alcohol.

We were doing this—actually doing this—and I didn't want to stop. My fingers drifted their way down her back to her waist, coming to a tentative rest there. She rolled her hips, pinning me to the bed, andI felt a sudden delicious tug of pulse between my legs at the pressure. As our mouths found a lazy rhythm, I discovered with surprise that Jess was really good at this. It briefly occurred to me that she'd probably done this before, whereas I had absolutely no clue what I thought I was doing. Whatever. I may not have been experienced, but it sure as hell felt natural, and good. So good...

_You're being irresponsible. The door isn't even locked._

"Do something about it, then," I murmured against her lips.

She pulled away, eyes widening. "Are you okay? Did you say something?"

"I - I like what we're doing," I whispered.

She rolled off of me, pulling me with her, until we lay side by side on the bed. "Good." Her answering smile was wicked. "Me too."

I smiled back hazily, putting my hands on her face, and brought our lips together again. I took a sharp breath at the feel of Jess raising her thigh, bringing it up between my legs. _Oh_... I shifted my hips and squeezed my own legs around it, then whimpered into her mouth at how good it felt. The CD ended, making us both open our eyes, but after a moment's uncertainty and a whirring noise it restarted. Jessica grinned, leaned over my body, grabbing the open vodka bottle from the nightstand, waving it precariously. I gave a breathless giggle and squirmed against her, discovering that not only was I having enough fun to _giggle,_ I was also more turned on than I've been since... since...

"Here, pass the bottle," I ordered swiftly.

She wagged a finger. "Tsk. Patience is a virtue, Bella. My turn first." Warm fingers lifted my top, and momentary confusion gave way to excitement. I watched in stunned silence as she sloshed some of the clear liquid unsteadily on my exposed midriff, then I sucked in a breath as she swooped down, laughing, and licked it off. _Oh, God._ My skin tingled as she continued sucking and giggling. I exhaled carefully. My belly was shaking now with excited laughter underneath her lips, but the feel of her mouth on my skin was making me wet between my legs. Nobody had ever kissed me there before. Nowhere even close.

"_Now_ it's your turn," she announced.

Fighting to regulate my breathing, I raised myself up on my elbows and accepted the bottle from her, tipping back my head. This time when the vodka traveled down my throat, I found it had magically lost some of its burn. Next, I put the bottle to her lips and raised it, watching the remaining liquid disappear.

The empty bottle was abandoned to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Jess laughed, grabbing me around the waist and flipping me over on top of her. "Where were we?"

This time, I didn't hesitate, twisting hurriedly out of my jeans and panties with her just as eager help. "About here," I answered, relieved that whatever we'd started wasn't going to end here, then watched in awe as she smiled and raised her thumb to my pubic bone. I followed her eyes and let out a short pant as she rubbed it in a downward motion all the way to my clit. _Oh, God. OhGodOhGod. _I looked down at Jess lying beneath me, hair radiating outwards on the blood-red comforter. She stared right back, raised the thumb to her mouth, and sucked it slowly. My mouth jerked open. _Want. Want this._

Still staring, I reached mechanically behind my back to take off my bra. Jess smiled, eyes barely open, as it fell away. "Ooh. Pretty." With the words, she placed her whole palm lightly against the spot where I was aching and ready while the other slid up over my stomach to my naked breasts. I sighed at how damn good it felt, realizing I wanted to see her, too. I'd always known Jess had a beautiful body, but the sudden prospect that I could actually see it_all _made my skin pebble and nipples harden as though fanned by invisible breath. Growing bolder, I raised myself off her slightly and extended a hand down to the button on her jeans, then braced my arms on either side of her while she bent her knees to wriggle out of them and swiftly taking off her top.

At the sight of her skin and curves, a sudden greed for more made me grab her hand. I placed it back between my legs and held it there, shifting against it impatiently, leaning down to kiss her again. Her fingers made slow passes through the wetness. I moaned greedily, pressed my lips to hers and stroked her hair, breathing in the wafted scent of her shampoo. The earlier laziness had evaporated. The fresh hit of neat vodka was circulating in my veins, blurring the edges of reality. I felt myself melt into the kiss. As I ran my tongue over her lips, I knew what I wanted. Her hand felt frustratingly good, exploring the wetness at the tops of my inner thighs now, brushing against me with slow, teasing movements. I wanted more, though. I needed more.

_Ohmygod, __I'm making out with Jess. Her fingers are... I might actually be about to... _I gave another moan. The room span gently.

The sensations her fingers were producing turned the low, teasing pulse to a throb. "Feels so good," I managed to gasp. I wanted this—whatever this was—and more with each passing moment. It might have been the alcohol, but after all the supernatural, this felt positively well-adjusted.

The track ended. "Ooh, I love this song. Sexy, like you," Jess announced dreamily as the next began, breaking the kiss and humming tunelessly to the lowered tempo. In time, her fingers started a slow grind against my most sensitive spot. I gasped again, louder this time, mirroring the movement with my hips. Her lips curved upwards; eyes full of mischief.

"Are you ready to live out every boy's fantasy?"

"I'm kind of living out my own fantasy right now." The breathy voice that answered her sounded nothing like mine. "I'll let you guess what happens in the next part."

_Oh Em Gee Oh Em Gee Oh Em Gee what the hell, Bella?_ But Jess just smiled wider, and slid her hands around to my ass. Gentle pressure coaxed me forwards until my knees were resting at either side of her head. I hesitated, then her hands pressed me down more forcefully onto her face and oh, oh, her tongue touched my swollen clit. A strangled word became caught in my throat. _Yes._ I had no idea it could feel like this. I had no idea _anything _could feel like this. She made a contented sound as she began to lick me while she softly stroked my ass and the tops of my thighs. The movements of her tongue and fingers were feather-light; combined, it all felt _so, so good_. I had no idea that Jess would be this sensuous, or gentle.

_Yes._

I heard myself moaning. I laid my arms on the headboard and placed my head against them, suddenly weak, desperate for this not to stop, but unable to formulate the words to beg. She withdrew one hand and I sighed; the other trailed up and down my back. A building tremor in my legs caused my eyes to open at the realization that this slow rise of exquisite pleasure I never wanted to end was actually leading somewhere. _I'm going to actually come._

Jess made a low sound of pleasure that reverberated against me, prompting a flood of more moisture and for me to rock my hips faster. _Yes._ I looked over my shoulder, and saw her free hand disappearing between her own legs. Holy shit. My eyes rolled back in my head. Her movements got faster until she was fucking me with her tongue. I whimpered as her hand left my spine, then sighed when it found my own. Our fingers laced together.

Turning my head, I cast my eyes at the mirrored wardrobe.

Holy HELL.

In the dim reflection, one slender dark-haired girl was splayed over another, back arched, hair cascading down, grinding on her upturned face. A smooth, tan thigh was raised from the hip, intersecting the upright girl's milkier torso. They were holding hands. Fuck, it looked hot.

The sight of us – our bodies twined together so perfectly – made me groan out loud. Suddenly, Bella ceased to exist, replaced by a ball of pure energy. In that one instant, all the hurt and need I carried with me was transformed, eclipsed by feeling.

I jerked forward, mumbling a string of incoherent nothings that mixed with her own rhythmic sighs. A relentless flame coursed through me, over and over, expanding, contracting, before finally settling in my stomach. I moved a few more times involuntarily before I collapsed by her side.

We'd been lying there barely long enough to catch our breaths when Jess arranged the comforter over us. Just in time, apparently, because to my horror, the door cracked open to reveal Mrs Stanley's head peering around it.

"Oh, hi girls."

"Um... Hi?" I offered faintly as she came right into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You two girls okay?"

"We're great," Jess said breezily. "Just, you know, hanging out."

Mrs Stanley gave a benign smile and raised a hand to smooth her hair. "That's nice. Only your dad just called again, Bella, honey. If you want a lift home, I'll take you now, otherwise he said he'd come by in the cruiser when his shift ends at midnight."

I pulled the comforter around my neck. "OK?" My voice was a croak.

Mrs Stanley patted the bed and stood up. "Alrighty then. See you downstairs in five minutes."

When the door closed and I'd allowed my breathing to return to normal, Jess nudged my shoulder with her own and giggled. "Shit. Lucky she didn't see that damn bottle on the floor! Well, I'm feeling kind of _relaxed_ now, so if you don't mind, I'll be a bad hostess and I won't get up to see you out." She gave a little snort, banging her arm on the bed to emphasize her next words. "Oh my God. Bella. That was so freaking hot. We should have totally made a sex tape."

"Great idea, Jess. Cause those type of things never end up coming back to haunt you," I deadpanned. "What could possibly go wrong?" I sat up with a bleary smile, fumbling for my bra and shrugging back into my tank. Oh, God. Just what I needed – another hangover. I would have to drink so much water when I got home – provided I could get in before Charlie, of course. Otherwise, all the water in the world wouldn't help me. I swung my legs over the side of the bed to stand, then paused.

"Jess?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

A sudden wave of warm embarrassment lapped my skin. I inspected my nails. "I just feel like... like I want to say thank you, or something. For tonight. Shit, I don't know. That sounds weird. Ignore me."

I heard her sit up behind me, gathering the comforter around her. I felt her lift my hair before a gentle kiss landed on the nape of my neck. Strangely intimate, and very un-Jess—or so I would have thought, before tonight. I guessed there was a lot more to Jessica Stanley than I'd ever imagined.

"No, it's okay. I get it," she said softly, "Thank you too. Hey." She hooked her chin over my shoulder. "We're friends, right? I just wanted to make you feel good. And it was fun."

_Huh. __'Fun'. Try, 'the most incredible orgasm of my life.' _I gave a low laugh and turned my head to kiss her hair. "How very zen."

She was right, though. It had been more... fun... than I'd ever had_. _And I managed to have an orgasm, with a real live person, without even being in any danger, I realized suddenly. The thought was accompanied by another pleasant tug in my lower belly as my body remembered exactly what this discovery had entailed.

Maybe I wasn't completely broken, after all? Perhaps _he_ hadn't ruined me—at least not absolutely and irrevocably. Amid the slow trickle of returning pain, I felt a splash of hope.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. :)<strong>


	23. Drawing Spirals--Paul and Lauren

**A/N: All the love to FatedFeathers, who wrote this Paul first and then let me steal him for my own nefarious purposes, to einfach_mich, whose cheerleading and visual prompting (see the link in my profile) made me follow through on my promise to give Paul a HEA and whose prereading cleaned it up, to HoochieMomma for her usual beta magic, and to cretin for allowing me to steal two paragraphs of her Sam POV fic that I'm still hoping will be finished someday.**

**Warning for those who are triggered by such things: this has a non-graphic reference to an offscreen suicide attempt. Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, but I'd be surprised if she recognized any of its situations here.**

**# # #**

Bella won't stop looking at him, and it's pissing Paul the fuck off.

She knows, of course. Bella has a weird way of seeing through all his bullshit and also not giving a damn, as if all the fury he can throw in her direction makes no dent in the unshakable assurance that Sam's love has given her. But she keeps looking, and he keeps getting more pissed off, and finally he says, "I'm leaving," and storms out of poker night like he's still sixteen and more wolf than man.

She follows, after a word to Sam. "Paul."

There's no use in running, but he thinks about it anyway before dismissing the notion. Bella's far more dogged than he, plus he needs to be around his first Alpha—and, much to his private dismay, his first Alpha's girl—more than she needs to avoid the words he uses to cut at her. "What?"

She closes the front door of the little house she shares with Sam and steps closer to Paul, eyes boring holes in his skull like she can drill to the truth. Good luck with that, sweetheart. "What's shoved a stick up your ass tonight? I mean, besides the one that's always there."

He can't restrain a snort. Bony Emoella who could barely think the word "fuck" has a potty mouth to rival the werewolves who surround her these days, but it's still a shock. Even to Paul, with whom she practices the least restraint. "It's none of your fucking business."

"And?" She's right beneath his nose now. The scars on her face have faded, but to his eyes they stand out even in the dark, a visible reminder of the price she paid for daring to play with forces outside her control. It sure as shit doesn't seem like it taught her to stop putting herself in danger.

Fuck it. He'll never have a moment's peace until he tells her so he might as well get it over with now. "She called me."

Bella doesn't need to ask who "she" is. Sam let that slip a long time ago. Her eyes darken with anger. "She's such a bitch. Did you answer?"

"No." But not because he meant to let it go to voicemail. He left his phone in the car accidentally and if he'd seen her number on the screen he would have talked to her. Realizing that, and realizing that he still knows her number even though he never dials it, infuriates him even more than the phone call. "She didn't leave a message either. But it was two o'clock in the morning so she was probably off her ass drunk or something."

"How often does she do that? Drunk dial you, I mean." Now Bella looks concerned. She just can't turn it off, even when it's somebody she hates, like Lauren.

"I don't know. It's been a while."

"I—"

"Don't say you're sorry."

Bella glares at him, safely restored to their usual combatant status. "I wasn't going to, dickhead. I hope there isn't something wrong, that's all. And I wish you didn't have to deal with her."

"I don't have to." That's the problem. "She just wishes I did." So does he. No he doesn't. For God's sake, sometimes his own head is so fucked up that he wishes there were a way to punch it hard enough to knock some sense into it. "Whatever. I'm leaving. By the way, your outside faucet's leaking like a bitch. I guess vice-Alpha's too busy to take care of his own damn house so I'll fix it tomorrow before it makes me lose my shit."

"Okay. Thanks. See you." Bella draws back, but she still gazes at him, anger faded to speculation.

"_What_?" It bugs the shit out of him when she does that. No matter how hard she stares she's not going to get to the bottom of the cesspool that's his mind.

To his surprise, a tiny smile curls up the corners of her mouth. "Nothing. I just like you, is all." Without waiting for an answer, she turns and goes into the house, back to her happy little picture-perfect life with _Sam Uley, _of all people, the one person Paul always counted on to be just as messed up as he himself was, until things got turned on their heads. Light flashes out of the open door, blinding him, and then fades just as quickly with the click of the latch.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Paul turns and walks to his truck, but instead of driving home he drives to Port Angeles.

He doesn't come here nearly as often as he used to, back when he was supposed to be in high school and instead raced around in the woods chasing vampires. He started running down after the redheaded leech did her best to kill him and he had to miss all the fun. Jacob came too, for a while, but at the moment he's living at the beck and call of that curly-haired chatterbox he refuses to admit is a girlfriend.

Fuck it, it's not like Paul needs a wingman. He just has to sit in a corner and girls come to him. Thanks, werewolf makeover. He goes into the first club that he comes across. It's shitty and second-rate, of course, but who gives a fuck as long as they've got booze? These days, he phases seldom enough that if he drinks fast, he can actually get drunk. Tonight seems like a good enough time to give it a shot. Or seven.

The bartender lines them up in front of him and then moves onto the next customer. Paul listens with half his attention to the conversations under the music.

Two girls, sitting to his right:

"I'd fuck him."

"You're such a slut. Would he fuck _you_, though?"

Answer: no.

A guy and a girl on the floor:

"I've never seen you here before."

"I don't usually go to clubs."

Bullshit. Paul's seen her here the last five times he's visited, and it's not like he's been coming every weekend.

Two guys at the table closest to the bar:

"What the hell is she doing?"

"I don't know, but she's been there alone for a while."

"Go ask her if she's okay."

"Why?"

"Because she looks not okay."

"No thanks. I had enough drama with my last girlfriend."

"Probably a good call. She might be insane. Who comes to a club looking like that?"

Paul, not really curious, looks around anyway, and almost immediately sees what the two guys are talking about: a girl in a wedding dress sitting alone at a table, back to the bar, half-empty glass of what looks like whiskey swirling with the restless motion of her hand. Her blond hair, perfectly arranged under her veil, catches the different colors of the lights and reflects them back.

Oh.

So _that's _why she called.

No ring on her finger, though.

Paul upends all but one glass and carries the lone remainder over to Lauren's table. Sitting down without an invitation, he angles his chin, observing, "You look like you're supposed to be somewhere else."

Her makeup's all run down her face, a slow mudslide of fakery that's left her looking like a washed-up clown, but she doesn't seem to care. "I do? Weird. It feels like I'm supposed to be right here." Raising her glass to him, she says, "To the wrong girl."

"To Lauren," he acknowledges, and tilts his last shot back. Setting it down, he says, "Who's the poor dumb bastard you left at the altar?"

"You never met him. Javier. A guy from U-Dub. He's probably on his way back to his home in Hunts Point right now." She sips her drink again. "Ticket out of Forks, lost."

"Thousands of dollars, lost. Hope your parents are doing better than they were back when we hung out."

She laughs and buries her face in her hands. "I paid for it all myself. I didn't want to owe them a penny. Instead, I owe it all to Visa. And MasterCard. And Discover." Still keeping one palm firmly pressed to her eyes, she reaches to pull out the skirt of her wedding gown out for his inspection. "At least I got a kickass dress out of it."

"You look fucking stupid." She looks like a grown-up. Someone old enough to get married is too old to hold accountable for stupid choices she made years before, no matter how much his chest hurts because of those choices now. "Sitting here in a club wearing your wedding gown. And what's with the white?"

"It doesn't mean I'm a virgin, dumbass." With a damp giggle, she knocks back the rest of her drink and waves at a server.

"No shit. It's just…" He's disgusted with himself for remembering this, but, "You hate wearing white."

"Yeah, but I hate a lot of things."

"Did you love Hunts Point?" Fucking booze, making his tongue loose in his head. What the hell was he thinking?

"Not enough, I guess." She spreads her fingers out on the table before her, staring at her left hand. "I knew it when I called you, but I was too much of a pussy to tell him till today, an hour before the ceremony."

"Sucks to be him."

"Not as much as it would have if I'd gone through with it." She turns her hands over so that her palms lie facing upward. Paul stares, too, at all the crisscross marks that mar the delicate skin inside her wrists. They're faded, but still there, and of course nothing much can hide from his eyes. "When's the last time we talked?"

"Five years ago." At the most fucked-up party he ever had the displeasure of attending. Fucking Emoella and her death wish. "How'd you get my number?"

"Jessica. She made me promise I wasn't just going to jerk you around again." She laughs again. "So I hung up as soon as it rang. I hoped you wouldn't recognize mine."

"Yeah, well, don't flatter yourself. I've got a good memory for numbers." It's the truth, but he doesn't remember everybody's. Just the people who matter. "Are you gonna go home?"

"I guess. Once I can drive. Oh, wait, I walked from the church to here." She draws patterns in the water left by the condensation on her glass on the table. Spirals. It's always spirals. "Guess I'll catch a cab or something."

Catch a cab? From Port Angeles to Forks? It'll cost her a fucking fortune. "You done?"

"Yeah." The server sets a fresh glass in front of her. Lauren hands over a twenty with, "Keep it." At Paul's incredulous look, she shrugs. "I don't give a shit. What, I'm going to go _more _bankrupt? Somebody might as well get what they want tonight."

"You're so fucked up. Drink that and let's go." He stands, and then, when she stays seated, adds impatiently, "C'mon, Lauren, don't pull that hard-to-get bullshit with me. We both know you're not and anyway you don't have the money to pay for a cab."

She gives him a look with tears hovering around its edges. "You're such an asshole. You used to be sweet."

"Sweet didn't get me anywhere, did it?" Damn it, he didn't mean to say that, either. Paul breathes for a second, focusing, trying to figure out if he actually managed to get drunk and can't drive. After a moment, he regretfully comes to the conclusion that he's fine to get behind the wheel. It's just Lauren who makes him admit what he shouldn't. "Get up."

Swallowing, she redirects her gaze to the table and shakes her head.

"Why the fuck _not_?" he demands, and then spins around because shit, he sounded like the kid he used to be, the one everybody called Doughboy and whose own dad couldn't look at him with anything other than contempt. The one boy who was friends with Lauren Mallory, out of all the boys who hovered around her, not because he wanted to be but because she never saw him as fuckable.

She told him differently, once, but he still refuses to believe what she said was true. Just like he refuses to look at her until he's certain his face is blank.

At last, with a defeated sigh, Lauren stands and shakes out her dress, then gives him a nod. "Fine. Let's go."

Together, they walk out of the club and into the night. Rain sheets down on their heads the instant they step onto the sidewalk. Paul doesn't care, having spent more time outdoors than in at this point in his life, but when he looks back, he sees Lauren hunched over in misery, hugging herself against the chill. Her dress is one of the kind that leaves her shoulders entirely bare to the elements. Paul makes himself move forward, toward his truck, instead of to her. Unlocking the doors, he slides inside, waits while she awkwardly climbs into the cab, and then pulls out of the parking lot before she even gets her seatbelt buckled.

He makes it fifteen minutes down the 101 before her surreptitious sniffling and shivering get to him. Cursing at himself, he reaches to flip the heat on for the first time since he bought the truck and then, driving one-handed, unbuttons his shirt. His body heat's already evaporated most of the water from the fabric. Handing it to her, he orders, "Put it on. You're driving me nuts."

Without a word, she obeys.

Something about driving frees him to speak. Maybe it's because he can't really make eye contact with her. "Tried to kill yourself lately?"

"Not since the time you found me."

The memory makes him nauseous. To hide it, he says, "I guess those meds are magic. Fucking sanity in a goddamn pill."

"Fuck you, prick. I worked hard, too; I didn't, you know, pop a Xanax and hope for the best. Just because I didn't hop into bed with you doesn't mean I was trying to play you. I was honest with you like nobody else." Huddling into his shirt, she mutters, "I told you the truth, when you came to my party. I was so afraid of messing everything up, if I got together with you before my head was screwed on straight. I guess I put it off too long, but damn, Paul, I never lied to you. You're the one who ditched me, or did you forget that while you were telling yourself what a bitch I was?"

It hurt so badly to stop calling her, stop going round her place, and stop taking her calls, that he _made _himself forget. Guilt's another thing that makes him angry, so he snaps, "Whatever. I had shit going on that you wouldn't have understood."

"But Bella Swan did?" she demands, incredulity clear in her tone.

He starts and then forces himself to focus on the road rather than look at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You hung out with her all the damn time! I _saw _you! Coming in the party to get her, riding in her truck around town…"

Raising his voice, Paul talks over her. "She's with one of my best friends. What was I supposed to do, pretend she wasn't there?"

"That worked with me, didn't it?"

It did. But Bella already knew about them. There was nothing left to hide. And she wouldn't allow Sam to hide from her even when he tried his best. Which, come to think of it, wasn't all that good. Those two were meant for each other.

Lauren's next words come out in a whisper. "I tried. I came up to La Push for months and tried to find you."

The sounds of the rain falling on the roof of the cab and the windshield wipers squeaking fills the cab until he can bring himself to speak. "I know you did."

He drives on in silence which she finally breaks with, "You never turned your lights on. How can you even see the road?"

Without answering, he rotates the switch and squints against the sudden brightness fanning across the asphalt.

They're coming up on the outskirts of Forks when he thinks of something to say. "Your folks still live on Fuhrman Road?"

The words come out in a sad little sigh. "Yeah, they do."

"Are they pissed at you?"

Still, the small, sad voice. "Yeah, they are. I think they hoped me getting married would make me someone else's problem."

Paul remembers that about the Mallorys. They were always trying to make Lauren someone else's problem, and her problems someone else's fault. Including his. Although he supposes he was a pretty easy target to find. "Too fucking bad for them."

"I know, right? At least this time they're not out a shitload of money." She gives a weak laugh.

"Silver lining." He passes Fuhrman Road and keeps heading for La Push.

"That was it, Paul."

"I know that."

"If you're taking me to Bella I'll cut a bitch."

"Hell, no. And she'd cut you first. She's not exactly your biggest fan."

"Yeah? Well, fuck her."

It's like the devil wants to make him say everything he can think of that's guaranteed to infuriate her. "You two are a lot alike, you know."

"Shut up, Paul, and take me to my parents' house. I'd rather listen to them yell than sit here while you spew this shit."

"Sorry, babe, we just passed the only stoplight. You won't even have a chance to jump, so, whoopsies, you're stuck with me. That'll teach you to take a ride from a stranger."

Lauren's gaze is just as penetrating as Bella's, and twice as annoying. "You're still the same guy, Paul. Or you would have taken me straight home. Don't try and pretend it's just to mess with me. You feel sorry for me still."

He manages a sneer. "So what if I do? That just makes you pathetic."

"I know I am. But what does it make you?"

Paul can't force himself to give the answer he knows is the truth. _Just as pathetic._ Instead, he shrugs. "Right now, I'd call myself your best chance for a good night's sleep."

The ambiguity of that statement keeps her quiet almost the entire way to La Push. It isn't till he turns off La Push Road and into the rez that she asks, "Is your dad home?"

"I live by myself now." In his dad's house, just like Sam lives in Allison's house. Even their parents could leave the rez behind, but not them. Not the wolves. "He got remarried and she didn't want to come to La Push."

Lauren laughs. "You chased her off, huh?"

He laughs, too, though it makes his throat tight. "Yeah. I did." He wasn't surprised when his dad went with her. After all, what did La Push have to offer?

Curling up on the seat, Lauren rests her head on her knees and looks at him. "You're pretty good at that. Chasing people off."

The feeling of being understood is a dangerous one. At any minute, he'll be spilling his guts just because he wants to make sure she understands _everything. _He grits his teeth against the confessions fighting to make their way free of his mouth and pulls up in front of the house. Lauren slips her feet out of her heels and clutches them to her stomach, along with the hem of her dress and her purse, picking her way through the mud behind him as they make their way to the front porch.

This time, he remembers that normal eyes need light and flips the switch when he opens the door. Dropping her shoes on the porch, Lauren steps in behind him and waits while he throws the deadbolt. She hands his shirt to him, turning to present her mostly-bare back. "I'm sorry, but would you mind unbuttoning these? I can't reach, and there are a couple of hooks, too."

Wordlessly, he obeys, taking care not to allow the backs of his fingers to brush her skin. When he's finished, he lets his hands drop, but doesn't move away. She clutches the front of her bodice to her chest, breathing too hard and staring at the wall. Paul waits. Lauren's going to turn and she's going to wrap her arms around his neck and she's going to pull his mouth to hers, and then he'll be on solid, familiar ground once more.

"Can I take a shower? I'm freezing."

"Nobody's stopping you."

Lauren shuffles off toward the bathroom without looking back. In seconds he hears the shower sputter on.

Well, shit.

Looking around, Paul's struck by how neglected the place looks. It's not filthy or anything—he's far too fastidious for that—but there are stacks of old magazines in random baskets under side tables, clean laundry hanging over the arms of the lounge chair, and used dishes still in the sink waiting for their once-a-week washing. Not ever having anyone inside has made him blind to the reality of his surroundings. Vaguely ashamed, he grabs the clothes and carries them to his room. Then he realizes what he just did and nearly throws all the clothes on the hallway floor until he remembers that they're his and he'd only be spiting himself. With a growl, he stalks into the kitchen and starts washing dishes, taking some grim satisfaction in the knowledge that she'll be showering in freezing water while he runs the faucet. No yelps emerge from the bathroom, but his ears are sharp enough to catch her gasp. He grins.

Of course, there's the question of what she'll wear. It's not as if she can fit on his old bunk bed wearing that massive dress, and anyway the fabric's soaked. It'd serve her right if he just let her sleep in it but it'll mess up his blankets. Cursing at himself, at Lauren, at Bella for staring at him and chasing him away to Port Angeles, he finds a t-shirt and cutoffs made out of sweatpants with a drawstring waist. He flings open the bathroom door, sees Lauren gaping at him and clutching a towel ineffectually to her chest, and throws the clothes at her head before slamming the door shut once more.

"Thanks?" Lauren drawls from behind the flimsy wood paneling.

"Whatever."

While he's waiting for her to emerge, he works on the dishes.

Lauren speaks behind him too soon. "Is it okay if I sleep in your old bed? Or would you rather I take the couch?"

_In your old bed. _She'll be sharing the room with the ghosts of his fantasies about her teenage self, the ones he indulged before he understood how much the vampires had stolen. She looks almost as young, now, especially with her habitually thick eyeliner rinsed from her face and her lips left bare. "You can sleep in the bunk bed. I have my dad's now." Thank fuck for that. Sleeping with his knees digging into his chest got real old, real fast, but that didn't mean he got a bigger bed just because he'd had the inconsideration to grow a foot in the space of a month or so.

"Thanks." Fidgeting, she opens her mouth as if to add something she's not certain will be welcome—like _anything _she says will be at this point, except maybe, "never mind, I'm leaving," but he knows that wouldn't make him happy either. Instead of saying it, she drapes her dress over the barren kitchen table and draws alongside him, drying the dishes before setting them into the rack as he finishes washing. When they're done, she says, "Goodnight," and heads for his old bedroom. Paul waits for the door to close behind her. Once it does maybe he'll be able to breathe again without this weird strangling feeling.

"Paul."

Damn it. "What?"

"I really appreciate you bringing me here. My parents are so mad that I don't think they'd even let me in tonight. So, thanks."

"Yeah." It doesn't sound cutting enough, but the ability to converse has deserted him along with the ability to breathe unhindered.

"Good night."

The bedroom door closes.

He still can't breathe.

Fighting off the urge to curl up on the floor outside her doorway so that she'll have to trip over him to leave, he gets ready for bed and crawls under the covers. His hands shake when he smoothes down the blankets around his body. Something's wrong with him but he doesn't want to figure out what it is, so instead he listens to Lauren's heartbeat until he falls asleep.

The sound of her crying awakens him. Between the clouds and the time—just before dawn—it's so black that even his eyes have to strain to see, but he makes his way to the other bedroom anyway. Shoving through the door, he says, "What the hell is your problem? I can't sleep."

"Sorry," she sobs, not lifting her face from her pillow. "I'm sorry."

Lauren's five feet, nine inches. He knows because she told him back when he was shorter and she wanted to be a model (_I'm just barely tall enough_). It's big for a girl. But she looks so little, curled up on the twin-size mattress, and before he knows it he's sitting on the edge, feeling her tremble against his updrawn leg. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Rolling over, she presents him with an unattractive picture: reddened skin, matted hair, streaming nose and eyes. Paul watches his hand as it reaches, all on its own, and strokes the damp blond strands back from where they've stuck to her temples.

"No," she tells him, and he jerks away. Catching his wrist, she pulls it back, clarifying, "No, it wasn't a bad dream. It was a good dream. The best. That was what made it so awful. Everything was _perfect _and I was so happy and then I woke up and…" Tears start leaking from the corners of her eyes again. She clamps her mouth shut and shrugs with a miserable smile.

"I get it." At her raised eyebrows, he adds, "I had those." Back when his mom left. He dreamed that she came back, promising never to leave again, and then she acted like moms on TV did, making dinner, chiding him about his homework and folding his shirts. What a bunch of bullshit. Still, "It sucked to wake up."

"Yeah." Her grasp on his wrist loosens enough for her to caress the skin next to his palm. He shivers.

When she tugs him toward her, Paul doesn't resist. He doesn't kiss her, either. He just ends up overlaying her, awkward, hip still on the edge of the bed and arm braced next to her head. "What do you want?"

Clearly taken aback by the question, she replies, "What do you think?"

"When I offered to fuck you the last time, you didn't seem to be too big a fan of the idea."

"Don't be a jerk. You were trying to get back at me for not recognizing you. I didn't want to be part of it. It wasn't my fault you grew like a weed and turned into a fucking bodybuilder."

It's hard to put what was wrong about what she did into words. He feels it so deeply that it almost bypasses the powers of speech. Finally, though, he manages to spit it out. "You treated me like one of them." The others, the saps, the guys who hopped into bed with her and proved she mattered and then hopped right back out again. The ones she used and threw away.

She sighs. "I didn't know what else to do."

It's good enough. He's not sure why. He presses his lips to her collarbone, and she catches her breath in not-quite-a-gasp, her body going limp before she pulls him down. Her arms wrap around his neck, just as he pictured before, but it's all strange and different because she's here with him just like she used to be when he was fifteen, only this time she's acting the way he wanted her to, and things happening the way he wants them to are always worthy of suspicion. Holy shit, she smells so good.

Shoving the doubt away, he lifts his shirt over her head. The squeezing in his chest eases when he has her topless. This is familiar; this is something he knows how to do. He's good at it. Lowering his head to her breast, he licks the inner slope. The responsive hitch of her chest makes him smile. Her body fits to his exactly, every curve pressing to a corresponding angle until he's locked into place. And he still hasn't gotten her naked.

Lauren doesn't like that. He's barely started paying attention to the other breast when she starts twisting, whimpering, "Take them off," and pushing his shorts down. Working her arm between them, she touches his cock. Paul sucks in air between his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against the sensation, almost too powerful with all the weight of his juvenile speculations behind it. Lauren takes advantage of his distraction to push off her shorts too. Suddenly there are no further barriers between them.

With a glance up at him from beneath her lashes, Lauren pushes his shoulder until he's flat on his back, their positions reversed. Scooting downward, she licks his erection. When he gives a pained groan, she looks almost unbearably smug before opening her mouth to swallow him in soft wet warmth. Her corn-silk hair falls forward to tickle his stomach and thighs, and that's when his brain shorts out and his whole world dwindles to the feeling of her lips, tongue, and throat caressing his length. It seems like an embarrassingly short time before he feels himself hovering on the edge, way too close to coming for his liking.

"Cut that out," he tells her. She ignores him. "Lauren, I'm serious, don't." No way is he letting her get him off first.

With a petulant sound, she sits up as far as she can without hitting her head on the top bunk and scowls at him. The impact of the expression's somewhat reduced by her swollen mouth and bedroom eyes. "I don't mind."

Something in the way she says it makes him think that maybe she'd even prefer that outcome. Too bad. He isn't giving up control that easily. "Yeah, well, I do." He pulls her down to him once more but flips her over so that she lies on her side, facing away. Sliding one arm under her to curve around her breasts, and the other down between her thighs, he draws her earlobe between his teeth. She flinches, and he tightens his grip, releasing her ear to say, "No." The tension in her body gets worse, but she allows him to slip his hand up the inner curve of her leg.

She's not ready for him yet. Not nearly wet enough and that shaking _might _be arousal or it _might _be fear, so he wants to wait and make sure. She seems so fragile. Even Paul, long since accustomed to judging his own strength and how much the woman he's with can take, is a little hesitant to let go. Rubbing her clit with one finger, he whispers, "C'mon, this was your idea, remember? Don't tell me you're chickening out now."

Her legs clamp together, almost stopping the movement of his hand before she exhales and seems to make a conscious effort to relax. "I'm not."

Yeah, right. Pulling her more tightly against him, he strokes her breasts in rhythm with the fingers between her legs. "Good girl." She likes that; a gush of wetness dampens his hand.

No sooner does he start to feel her excitement building toward her climax, though, than she starts begging, "Paul, please. I don't wanna wait. Please."

It's almost like she doesn't _want _to come.

His pride won't allow that result. He frees her just long enough to reach under the bed and pull out a stray box of condoms, checking the expiration date on a wrapper before ripping it open with his teeth. It's been so long since he had someone here in his home that he's surprised they aren't out of date. Rolling it on one-handed, he tells her, "You don't have to wait," and slowly pushes inside her. Once he's fully seated, though, and she's pressing back against him, trying to cue a faster pace, he stops dead. Instead of moving, he instead returns his attentions to her clit. Lauren whimpers, her entire body jerking as if she's looking for an escape route, but unless she tells him she's changed her mind then he's not giving her an out. "Nobody's making you wait."

"Paul."

"Right here."

She's gasping, high-pitched noises reminiscent of the sobs he heard earlier. "Paul…"

The slow tightening of her internal muscles around his cock is making it almost impossible to think straight, but he focuses on maintaining his rhythm. He can't help the tiny, involuntary movements of his hips even though he tries to still them. "It's okay." It feels like a stupid thing to say, but Lauren almost seems scared, and it's the only response to come to mind. It isn't until he brushes his lips across her neck in a soft trail of kisses that she finally lets go. She inhales, her whole body clamping down in anticipation, and then cries out as the waves of release thrum through her. There's hardly any room to move, but Paul manages to roll her over onto her stomach so that he can thrust into her, finally freed from the need to be gentle. If he were really on his A game he'd see if he could get her to come again, but his usual standards have been destroyed by the woman in his arms. Instead, he gives in to his own orgasm, clenching his jaw against all the things he might say if he lets down his guard, even now.

Lauren stays face-down, head buried under her arms like she's shutting him out already, while he gets up to take care of the condom. When he gets back, though, she surprises him, rising naked to her feet and padding into the master bedroom without a word. He follows, and watches her settle into the bed and close her eyes before crawling in beside her.

Her stare awakens him a few hours later. It's heavy on his skin even with his eyes closed, but when he looks at her she glances down, swallowing hard.

"I can't just stay here."

_Why not? _is the first thought to pop into his head, and that scares him enough that he says, "Hell, no."

"Would you mind giving me a ride back to my parents'? I texted them last night to tell them where I was, and they didn't answer, so probably they don't care, but I still need to get my stuff and head out."

"Sure. I'll get dressed." Despite the words, he stays where he is while she rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom. Maybe the nauseous, gnawing feeling in his gut is just hunger. He doesn't think it's the right kind, though.

For once, he lets the realization surface: He really wants her to stay.

He's _always _wanted her to stay.

That's a mistake, because instantly all the other shit he's been keeping at bay rushes to fill the gaps anger usually stops up, and he's panting between his teeth with the pain of it in seconds. Fucking Lauren and her fucking ability to prod through the impervious werewolf skin to the soft kid who's still there underneath it all.

Lauren exits the bathroom but doesn't come back in to join him. The tremors are back, a sick parody of the shaking that overwhelms him just before he phases. He manages to put on his pants but decides not to bother with anything else. He's just driving her back to Forks, after all.

Once he's finished in the bathroom himself, he walks out to see Lauren half into her wedding dress, frowning as she tries to do it up behind her back.

"Let me get that." He starts at the bottom and goes as slowly as possible. Maybe it's that his hands don't want to cooperate, or maybe it's that he knows as soon as he finishes, that's it.

Lauren sighs, and the sound carries the echo of grief.

"Don't go," he begs before he realizes he's even thought it. "Don't go."

She moans, but her mouth is clamped shut in a stubborn line.

"Don't go," he says again, and he spins her around to skim his fingertips up her bare skin, barely letting himself touch her because it slices him open and he's bleeding, he just can't see it yet. The dress collapses to her waist as she reaches up to stroke his hair. "Don't go," he whispers, and kisses her.

She kisses him back, but the misery radiating out of her vibrates through every point at which they touch until his heart's in his throat. "I'm so sorry," she whispers against his mouth. "I don't want to go but this is wrong. I'm too fucked up right now and it's not fair to you."

"Fuck fair," he tells her, but she steps away, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry."

Without another word, he wrenches her dress back up and finishes the job of closing it. They drive back to Forks in the same silence.

Once they're parked in her parents' driveway, she steps out, but then turns to look at him. "Paul—"

"There's your dad," he interrupts, nodding toward the porch. "Bye."

She closes the truck door, saying, "Bye."

Paul manages the drive back to his house. He doesn't remember it. It isn't until he's pulling in that he realizes the entire twenty minutes is a blank. Sam's sitting on the front step, in spite of the rain, waiting for him, so he doesn't get much of a chance to think it over.

"What's up?" he asks, walking past the Vice-Alpha and unlocking the door.

Sam follows him into the house and instantly stiffens, nostrils flaring. "What—you had a girl here?"

Giving him a derisive look, Paul collapses into the lounge chair. "That's why you came over? Yeah. I fucked a girl, Sam. You can leave."

Sam lifts an eyebrow and sits opposite him on the couch. "I came over because one, Bella was worried about you. And two, Jake was worried about you."

Great. Werewolf telepathy isn't worth the shit it puts him through, and neither is friendship, even friendship by proxy through the Sam buffer. "Tell Alpha Jr. I'm fine. Same goes for Emoella. Doesn't she have enough to worry about with you being her boyfriend?"

Shaking his head, Sam looks him in the eye. "I know you better, man. If you had someone here, she was special."

Paul opens his mouth, ready with a cutting reply, but before he can say the words all the feelings slam back into him, still too fresh and raw to shove away, and he ends up just gaping like a dumbass, unable to say a word under the assault.

"Paul." Sam stands, his face a picture of shock, but Paul only shakes his head and gets up, tripping over the lounge chair in his hurry to retreat.

"Don't," he warns, and then he's out the front door and running for the trees. Sam calls after him, but Paul ignores the summons and strips, leaving his pants on the ground as he bursts into the body of the wolf and keeps racing away, far from the weakness of his human heart.

The night after Lauren leaves Paul, he has to patrol with Jared. Fortunately Jared's way too happy—and clueless—to notice when anybody else is the opposite. He jabbers about the baby and the baby's diapers and the baby's crying and how Kim's boobs leak now whenever they do it and it's kind of weird, like, did Paul know that milk comes out of a bunch of different holes in her nipples and not just one like a bottle? (No. Paul did not. And he would've been abso-fucking-lutely fine with never ever seeing that picture, particularly the part where it squirted across their bedroom.) But of course it's not enough to stop them. And Kim's apparently just as much of a slut for Jared as she ever was so Paul figures that everything's okay in imprint la-la land.

At the end of his shift, he doesn't want to phase back. Turning human means regaining the human pain, which his current form holds at bay as long as he doesn't think about it. Paul's pretty good at not thinking about it. Instead, he paces through the woods, looking at his house, trying to decide whether or not it's worth it to sleep outside.

Unfortunately, he's so busy not thinking about what he wants to ignore that he forgets to think about other things, like the fact that it's Jacob and Sam's turn to patrol, and the instant they phase it's all over.

_Paul?_

Jacob knows already that something's wrong, so he's primed to be nosy. He barely has to prod before it's all jarred loose: _wedding dress lights crying in the dark too much to resist and then she's gone_

_Oh, shit. _Sam sees the face too. _I remember that girl._ Unfortunately for Paul, Sam's not the Alpha anymore, and his flashback to five years ago is open for both the other wolves to see.

_Paul has the blonde from last weekend backed into the wall; he's kissing her and she's clinging to him and neither one of them seems at all wary or nervous or frightened. How is he able to touch her so _freely_? His hands are skimming over her sides, sliding beneath her shirt to rest on the flare of her hips, not particularly gentle or careful, but she's not acting hurt so it must be okay, right? Paul isn't shaky or holding back and _how is he doing that_?_

_When they break apart and Sam sees the way Paul is looking at her, he steps in. _That _look is not a look any of them can afford to give to anyone else. Even if Paul can somehow control himself. Even if he knows from the sick second-hand resignation building in his gut that Paul already understands he's going to have to walk away._

A moment's complete mental silence, and then both Sam and Jacob start, _Paul—_

_Just leave me the fuck alone._ Paul phases out and goes inside, eating everything in sight before collapsing on his bed and shutting the world out with sleep. For the next two weeks, that's all he does. Sleep. Patrol. Eat. Go to work. Come home. Bella stops by but, seeming to sense that this is beyond her powers, silently delivers dinner for him and then, to his disgust, pats him on the back before leaving again.

Everyone's worried. Jacob never gives Alpha orders—Alpha Jr.'s too _moral _for that sort of thing—but he does everything else he can to persuade Paul to talk. It doesn't work. Talking hurts.

Finally, Jacob sends in the big guns. He sends Jessica.

"Paul? Hey, grumpy-ass, open the damn door or I'm just coming in."

Unlike most of his neighbors, Paul locks the door, so he knows it's an empty threat. He sits and stares at the television, which is turned off.

The next minute, his head whips around in surprise as she strolls inside. "I told you," she says in answer to his look.

Right. He gave a key to Sam, and Bella owns everything Sam has. Goddamn happy couples. "What the hell do you want?" he asks, but his voice sounds weird, probably because he hasn't used it all that much in recent days.

"So Jacob says you're all emo and shit and he won't say why except Bella said it's about some girl and she won't tell me who but dude, it's probably Lauren, right? Because I remember that one time back in high school when you came to her party and it was really strange and she was all chasing you around, and then I heard she ditched her fiancé at the altar a couple weeks ago, but my mom saw her driving through town with some Native guy when she was leaving for her shift at the mill and then the next day was when you got all weird and so I'm guessing that's all part of the same weirdness. Am I right? I'm right, right?"

Paul just stares at her. Jessica sits down opposite, curls bouncing as she looks around. "Fine, don't tell me, it's not like I care anyway. Your place is nice. I kind of expected a man-cave but this looks like an actual home. Why are you just staring at the TV like your reflection is entertaining or something? Oh, laundry." She picks up a shirt from the pile on the chair's arm and starts folding, laying the clothes she finishes on the opposite arm. "Anyway, do me a favor and go to poker night so they stop talking about you. It's driving me nuts and God knows that's not a long trip. Or go rip Lauren a new one and then feel better because we all know she deserves it. Except not totally but that's really none of their business but I'm guessing you know that."

Swallowing, Paul croaks, "Can you just get the fuck out already?"

She slants a glance at him while shaking out his shorts. It's the pair Lauren wore. "Not until I'm sure you're going to quit making Jacob worry. That boy has enough on his mind without your drama piling onto it."

"Oh, fuck that shit," Paul spits out, and gets up to pace in a circle. "Alpha Junior's got all he ever wanted and then some. He doesn't get it."

Jessica tilts her head, giving him a raised eyebrow. "Really? All he ever wanted? Your standards are totally messed up. I guess it's not surprising but does it ever occur to you that people who don't turn into giant wolves might have it easier? There's like no way that Jacob ever put that on his list of what he wanted."

He never thinks about that. For fuck's sake, he's already pissed off all the time anyway; if he contemplates how much easier the non-mutants have it then he'll just spend all his time ripping things apart with his bare hands. Realization slams into him, two minutes too late. "Wait, what? How do you—Jacob _told_ you?"

She nods, and then shakes her head, laughing. "Kind of. I guess Sam gave him an Alpha order to keep him from phasing around me unless there was a vampire, but when Jacob took over as the big dog all those orders stopped working, and then I came back from college and we had a big fight and he started phasing and ran away, so I kept bugging him until he gave in. I've known for years." Shrugging, she adds, "I knew there was something freaky about you all. My theory was that you were all clones for an Army experiment though. Environmental factors could've accounted for the difference before the growth spurt and—okay, like you care about that. But you should've known that Jacob's no good at keeping secrets from the people he, uh, cares about. Not like you. Which is probably why he's freaking out so bad about your little trip into Sulky Valley. _Anyway_, all that to say, you guys are really skewed in your standards for what's sad and awful. Turning into a giant wolf? Sad and awful. Dropping out of school when you didn't want to? Sad and awful. Killing things because you have to or they'll kill you? Sad and awful. That happened to _all _of you, just about. I mean I guess it makes sense that you'd forget to compare to outsiders because you just don't have time to think about it and plus everyone in your pack is in the same boat."

Paul still can't move past the fact that she's known, for years, while he had to leave Lauren alone because they weren't allowed to have that sort of complication, that sort of risk. Emily's face never looked any different in Sam's thoughts, but Paul saw her a couple times after the whole _incident _and that was a cautionary tale in and of itself. No words necessary from Sam, not that the original Alpha ever let that stop him… while he fucked Bella Swan with impunity because she already knew their secret. Jessica's got a point about them all making sacrifices, but right now it feels like nobody sacrificed as much as Paul.

Disregarding his silence, Jessica prattles on. "It's got to seem like Lauren had it easy by comparison and I guess she kind of did because of her parents having money but I gotta say I prefer my mom and she worked two jobs and was never home."

At least they both had a mom.

"And sure she was kind of spoiled but that was mainly because they felt guilty for never really being around her. I grew up with her and her parents were always leaving every time I saw them. And then she got really fucked up when we hit thirteen but I guess you knew that already."

Paul nods. Maybe if he doesn't say anything she'll run out of words and leave.

"You're the only guy I ever saw her straight-out chase after she got help."

He waits for the rest of it, but Jessica seems to be hoping for a response, so he says, "Whatever."

"I'm serious. That's the real reason I agreed to come over. Jacob asked but I try to stay out of the middle of this stuff, especially with somebody who's made it pretty damn clear that he doesn't care if I live or die. Lauren's still my friend though and she never knows how to talk when it matters, only when it doesn't, and she was so different when you were around that I still remember it all these years later. After she got help she just waited for guys to come to her and that worked fine."

If he could _not hear_ this then that would be great.

"She asked about you, when she knew I'd been to the rez. Me and Bella, though I don't think she asked her twice because that was the most pissed-off I've ever seen Bella. That girl is _protective _of people she loves_. _But yeah. Lauren never told me to keep it a secret, either."

Now that sends a whole new stab of hurt through his chest. "Shut up, Jessica." Here he was so careful to never give Jessica or Bella a reason to believe he was thinking about Lauren, and Lauren didn't care if he knew she still thought about him. And what the fuck does that mean, Bella loves him?

"She did. She asked all the way up until she met Javier." Jessica stands. "I'm only telling you this so you can have the whole picture. She's so emotionally stupid that I'm willing to bet she didn't tell you any of it, or maybe you're such an angry bastard that you scared her away from trying. Personally I think you're a couple of train wrecks but if you're going to go off the rails anyway you might as well go together. Plus you've got a lot of people right here who want you to be happy, and it'd be nice if you stopped scaring them. See ya."

With that, she walks out, leaving a pile of folded laundry and a host of unanswered questions behind. Still, it's enough to pull him out of depression's grip, and when he phases in that night he can sense the relief in his brothers' minds before Jared pounces on his back. It pisses him off, but it's also sort of nice to know they care. Bunch of busybodies.

Once again, he falls back on routine, but this time it's the normal routine of poker night and cookouts, fishing trips and basketball games, in addition to work and patrol. Life stops feeling like it's a dead loss without Lauren and starts feeling okay again over the next few months. He's got his pack and he's got a life and whether or not he sees Lauren again, at least now he knows that she wasn't trying to fuck with his head. And when Bella, with studied nonchalance, mentions that she heard Lauren might possibly be coming into town over Fourth of July, he doesn't bother hiding his interest. "Are you sure?"

"Not sure, but that's what I heard," she replies with a jerk of her shoulder. Keeping her eyes on her cards, she goes on, "Her mom mentioned it to Jessica's mom so everybody she saw at the bank knew it by five o'clock. And that means I know, of course. You gonna go or what?"

Paul pushes his stack of chips into the center of the table. All in.

The next day is sunny so he has the next twelve hours off from patrols. No vampire who wants to keep its head goes out in this sort of weather. After he cleans his house he heads for First Beach. He could be wrong about that, but over the years he's learned to trust his instincts.

Sure enough, there's Lauren Mallory, sitting on the sand by herself, staring at the waves.

Paul freezes in place when he sees her, and then, cursing at himself for being such a pussy, jogs down the beach toward her. She sees him coming but makes no move except to draw her knees up to her chin. When he reaches her side he asks, "Mind if I sit?"

Clearly taken aback, she nods. "If you want."

"I want." He settles down next to her.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, which drives Paul nuts because he has about a dozen questions he wants to ask but can't decide on where to start. Lauren breaks it with, "How've you been?"

Huh. How come he didn't think to open with that? "Okay, I guess." Taking a deep breath, he offers a part of the truth. "I would've been better if you'd stayed, I think."

Tilting her head, she gazes at him. "We're going to talk about that?"

His courage almost fails him, but, hell, he turns into a giant wolf and he's going to let some girl scare him off? Fuck, no. "Sure. I mean, I want to." But then he runs out of words.

Fortunately Lauren's still got some. "Me, too. I'm sorry I fucked and ran. That was shitty of me."

"'S'okay." Sighing, he looks down and plays with the sand between his fingers. "I get it now. Bad timing."

"Yeah. I mean, I was wearing the dress I picked out for my marriage to some other guy. It just seemed really wrong, you know?" She swallows. "But still. It was shitty of me. It was exactly the thing I swore I'd never do to you."

"Why?" Why is he different from the others? Why can't he have what he wants? It's the thing he's never understood about her protestations.

"Because…" Now she's playing with the sand, funneling it through her hand into spirals next to her feet. "You gotta remember, you were really young when we got to be friends. Fifteen and thirteen's a big gap."

He snorts. "I was never thirteen."

Nodding, she allows, "You grew up fast because you had to. And I was really immature. But still, it would've been weird if I'd been into you like that. A whole new level of fucked-up."

Paul isn't sure if he agrees, but he says, "Okay."

"And then we hung out all the time, and I talked to you a _lot,_ even more than I did to Jess or Angela. Or at least, I told you the truth more than I told them. You know? I knew you liked me but the only thing I did with boys back then was sleep with them. You were still underage and I wasn't sure if it'd be legal, plus even if it was I didn't want to risk giving up my listener. It was really selfish but I friendzoned you."

"It wasn't that selfish." He wants to stop her hand's nervous back-and-forth by catching it in his own, but doesn't know how she'd react. "You never lied to me or said 'maybe someday' or anything like that."

"Yeah, but I was still using you for a sounding board when I knew you wanted more. If I'd been nice I would've cut you loose. But then you found me, that time I tried to kill myself for real, and I felt _so _guilty for not being more careful not to let someone walk in on me, and not making it look like an accident—"

"Don't," he interrupts. "Don't."

"I did, though. But you were still there, so I let myself think about it, once I was sure my head wasn't horrible and the meds and stuff were actually working. You disappeared, though. I thought I must've finally chased you off." Her head ducks low, and the shining white-blond hair slides down like a curtain to hide her face. Her voice emerges from behind the barrier, small and uncertain. "Like, either you were waiting for me not to be suicidal anymore so you could dump me without me killing myself, or, maybe you only liked me when I was all screwy and once I got more normal you weren't interested anymore."

Holy shit. He was so caught up in the drama that his own life turned into when he phased for the first time that it never even crossed his mind how she would perceive his withdrawal. At the time, he figured she would find another jerk to carry her emotional baggage, and anyway he was kind of busy trying to figure out how he was supposed to kill vampires and finish high school. (Answer: he wasn't. Hooray for GEDs.) "That wasn't it."

"Yeah, I figured that out later. But by then you were so different, and I… I guess I felt like you were out of my league. I still wanted to be friends but you made it pretty clear you weren't interested, and I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on up here in La Push but obviously it was something I couldn't be part of."

"You're not… That's not what I thought. That you were—that I was out of your league." Damn. He sounds like a moron.

"Well, obviously not, since you slept with me," she replies with a laugh. "I think I understand some of it now, though. You had some secret tribal things, maybe? And you couldn't talk about it with me because I'm not Quileute?"

Close enough. "Yeah."

"Well, that sucks. I jabbered your ear off about all kinds of stuff and you couldn't do the same thing to me."

"It did suck," he agrees.

"I'm sorry. I wish you could have."

"Me too."

She falls silent, and they both watch a sandpiper picking its way through the driftwood.

Gathering his courage, Paul asks, "Do you wish we hadn't done it?"

"No!" Lauren turns to face him fully, rising onto her knees so she can get closer. "No, Paul, no. I wish I hadn't done it _just then. _Because I wasn't over Javi and it wasn't fair to you. But I…" Blushing crimson, she drops her gaze. "I've never regretted it or anything."

His head goes light with relief. "Okay." Reaching to brush her hair back, he asks, "So did I fuck up my chances to actually get you to go on a date with me? Or is that something you'd want?"

Lauren jerks with shock. Before he can panic, though, she blurts, "You really want me to go out with you?"

Paul can feel the goofy smile on his face, but for once he doesn't try to wipe it away. "Yeah. I really do. And do you think… Is there any chance you could maybe stick around for a while?" He's putting himself so far out there that he feels naked, but if he doesn't try now he'll despise himself forever.

Lauren opens her mouth to answer, but clamps it shut again and nods vigorously, eyes glittering.

Paul can't think of anything else to say except, "Good." She throws herself into his embrace, though, so he figures that's probably enough.


End file.
